


What Difference a Decade to Hearts Like Ours

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Series: Heartache, Longing, and Imperial Expansion [1]
Category: Nova (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Additional Tags Apply, Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Drax (Marvel) - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gamora (Marvel) - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Intrigue or Mystery, Multi, Non-Graphic Smut, Original Character(s), Other, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Torture, Read chapter warnings, Rocket Raccoon - Freeform, Science Fiction, The Guardians of the Galaxy - Freeform, graphic smut, peter quill - Freeform, star lord - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-26 04:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30100611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: (can be read with zero knowledge of source material)Peter had been given a miracle he'd never expected and sure as hell had done nothing to deserve. But he'd take it and run with it for as long as he could.Sam was still recovering from the hell of a year, at least, of imprisonment and torture. His memories of the past ten years are gone and it'd be real nice for the universe to start making sense any minute now.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character, Peter Parker/Original Character(s), Sam Alexander/Original Character(s), Sam Alexander/Peter Parker
Series: Heartache, Longing, and Imperial Expansion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216556
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: character has been tortured, nothing graphic depicted but references to past abuse

Sam had finally snapped. He just hadn't realized it until he started hallucinating a rescue attempt. He'd been a slave to Titus for so long he'd literally lost track of the passage of time.

Sam stared at Gamora and Sensei Rocket silently. He'd never thought that this was how he'd go. It was a better reality at least. He wondered who they really were. Sam remained silent and motionless, no orders had been given. Sam ignored anything that wasn't an order, he no longer had the capacity to plan and hope for enough information to escape. It wasn't worth the price of failure. 

"Get up, kid!" was what whoever wasn't Sensei Rocket ordered. Sam stood, head bowed.

"We must leave now. Samuel, stay with us. Do you understand?" not Gamora commanded. Sam nodded and signed his confirmation. "Good. We're running. Keep up."

That was definitely weird, it wasn't time for the mandatory calisthenics to keep his body well enough to be used. But he listened. He ran with them. 

He did as they ordered and by the time his feet were on the _Milano_ he was just aware enough of reality to pass out.

He woke up in a ship's bunk. 

It was unquestionably the _Milano._

He used the head and looked at the door to the rest of the ship. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't the same man he'd been the last time he was here. He used the sonic shower and wished he could sit under scalding water until he felt something. He realized he was crying in the shower stall and had no idea how long he'd been doing so. He didn't even remember the sonics turning off.

Eventually, he made his way to the mess. 

"Nova! It's so— oh kay you're naked. That's, uh, that cool. Cool cool," Peter Quill, aka Star Lord, said. He even stood up and moved towards him, probably for a hearty hug. Sam wasn't entirely sure he knew what to do with a genuine hug from anyone. 

"Slaves don't get clothes," Sam said, by way of explanation. His voice was quiet.

"Uh, that sucks. But you're not a slave any more, Sam. C'mon, let's get you something to wear.

It still felt unreal, being a free man. Sam followed Quill to his quarters. Once Sam was dressed he burst into tears. He didn't even know why. Quill clearly had no idea what to do but he tried. They sat down on his bed and Peter Quill held him until he'd cried himself out.

He woke up in Quill's bunk. Everything was still unreal but he was fully dressed and alone. Sam sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. _This is real,_ he thought, _I'm really free now._

Some time later Rocket Sensei arrived and threw something cold and heavy at him. Sam looked down at his Black Nova helmet and slowly blinked. 

"Get yer _das't_ helmet on, kid!" Sensei Rocket snapped.

No one hit him and no one cursed him. Adrenaline flooded his system. Was this… ?

With shaking hands Sam grabbed his helmet. It was cold in his grip and he smacked himself in the face with the star getting it on. Power rushed through him and his mind felt clearer than it had since he'd been taken.

  
  


_forgive me Sam i have failed to do my duty_

  
  


Sam wasn't sure what sound left his mouth but the relief rushing through him was dizzying. The connection to his Worldmind felt like coming home. It didn't matter that they'd been separated and helpless for too long, they were together now.

"Finally, _schlag_ shit kid, don't pull nothin like this again," Rocket Sensei said, voice going uncharacteristically soft for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and fluffed up his fur. Back to his usual gruff tone he said, "Get your glowy tail into the mess and eat. Groot worked hard on this. You make him sad and I'll introduce you to my new favorite gal the fun way."

Sam smiled. Rocket's 'gal' was no doubt one of his new guns. It was such a normal Rocket thing that he felt a bit better. 

Over the meal, he learned that they were taking Sam home.

"You guys are going to Earth for me?" Sam asked. Gamora and Peter Quill and Rocket couldn't stand Earth.

Drax laughed as if he'd told a joke. Mantis looked sad, but, well, from what Sam could remember she had always been a bit sad. Gamora was unreadable, but Groot, Rocket and Quill were uncomfortable. Obviously so. Sam didn't know what to do. So he ate what was put in front of him. Worldmind was silent but very much present in Sam's mind. It was such a comfort after so long without.

When the meal was over Rocket Sensei took over piloting. Sam helped Drax clean up and was bemusedly confused and amused to see Gamora get Quill to do the washing while Sam dried. Drax put away the clean and dried dishes. While they were thus occupied Gamora and Mantis spoke quietly to themselves. Quill hummed decades old earth tunes. It was so domestic and normal Sam again found himself crying over nothing.

"A true warrior weeps to free energy for future victories!" Drax declared. 

Sam couldn't manage to respond. Thankfully, Drax didn't need Sam to say anything. Sam needed to think, and to try and figure out what he was going to do now.

"I need to meditate with Worldmind. Anyone wanna join me?" Sam said. He needed to do this, for a multitude of reasons. He didn't want to be by himself though.

Drax and Mantis joined him in meditation. Drax was actually very adept in meditation and had given Sam pointers when he'd been younger. Mantis was still quite socially unaware, but whether or not she meditated she was good company. 

_i have been unable to reach the nova empire since being returned to service_

Before Sam could begin to express any thoughts on this alarming development Worldmind wordlessly let him know that there was more. Sam waited.

_there are not even outposts left | however there is information on a new nova empire that does not make sense | they are primarily human and based in a sector away from earth_

_What the_ flark _could have possibly happened to the Nova Empire? The entire_ das't _empire?!_ Sam wondered. It was an extremely upsetting realization. The vast, galaxy spanning empire that trained him in his powers was simply… gone.

_there is nothing in my memory that would explain the current situation | if we were conquered then i would expect the conquerors to still be present and inhabiting our systems | i am… at a loss Sam |_

_Me too, Worldmind, me too,_ Sam thought.

_i am sorry | i will scour all of my memories for any lead. it will take nearly an imperial year to thoroughly sift my memories, assuming that i must process a minimum of eighty percent of what i am capable of recalling._

_The_ flark _am I going to do until then?_ Sam thought despairingly.

_recover_

_I don't have time to recover_ Sam snapped back. Worldmind disagreed.

_you must recover | we no longer have back up | we may not even have a secure place to rest | Sam… if you do not survive… if… |_

Guilt flooded through Sam. Worldmind was right. They might be all that was left of the Nova Empire. He thought, _No, you're good. We're good. We're back and we can do this._

* * *

Sam had fallen asleep and no one had even moved him. He missed out on seeing the sight of the massive spacecraft they were docking with. _The_ _Bird_ _Eater_ was a colony ship of massive proportions. An entire fleet of support craft kept pace with her. And beyond her immediate defenses squads of war ready spacecrafts patrolled.

Sam woke up when Rocket Sensei entered the cargo hold.

“C’mon, kid,” Rocket Sensei said, slapping Sam's leg on his way past him to the opening cargo ramp. Sam pulled himself to his feet and gave himself a shake. He wasn't awake enough for this. He walked after Rocket Sensei instead of hovering. _No need to let these strangers know more about me than necessary._

“I’ll just, you know, keep _The Milano_ running. Sorry Sam, we’ve gotta go ASAP,” Peter Quill said over the internal ship speaker.

“What did you do, Quill?” Sam asked, though he was too exhausted to sound anything like he wanted.

“Why would you assume?” Star Lord said, sounding so offended and normal that Sam was relieved. Though it was strange that the other Guardians weren't seeing him off. Sam followed Rocket Sensei down the ramp.

The docking bay they were in was small in size. Sam was still ignorant to the true size of the massive colony ship they were on and based on the bay he thought they were on a cruiser.

_The Milano_ wasn’t the only craft in this bay, but the others were not something Sam recognized. Or rather, Sam was unhappy to recognize them as being recreations, or something like it, of Star Trek shuttlecraft and runabouts. That did narrow down who was building these things by quite a bit. Sam was only the smallest bit surprised to see Peter Parker waiting for him. He was older than his memories told him he should be, and he was flanked by LMD guards. Sam didn't recognize their insignia.

"Sam! Oh my gosh you're alive! Star-Lord was so sure he'd found you, I'm so glad he was right!" Peter Parker called, bounding over to them with spider leaps. He picked Sam up in a bruising hug and peppered his face and helmet with little kisses. 

"Webs?" Sam wheezed, a bit at a loss. Peter had always been affectionate, and Sam had been gone for a long time. Peter was not wearing his Spider-Man suit, though this was just as tight fitting. It was blue and gold and black with no reds. Peter also, weirdly, had a hood and cape on this suit. Though the hood had fallen down with his rather vigorous greeting.

"Sam! It's so good to see you! I'm so glad you're back!" Peter declared. Sam grunted and squirmed in his iron like grip. Peter was without a mask and the smooches to his cheek were definitely weird.

"Yeah, well, try an' keep him this time. He's a _das't_ hard _schlag_ dick to track down even when he ain't bein' held prisoner," Rocket Sensei said. Peter’s grip tightened enough to make Sam’s ribs ache. Even in his Nova suit.

Sam was winded from the too strong hug and too tired to banter back anyways.

"Of course Rocket. Thank you," was the reply. There was something unsettling in Parker's expression for a moment. Sam was exhausted enough to believe he imagined it. "Tell the rest of the Guardians I said hi! And thank you! Buh-bye!" 

With that, Peter dragged Sam away with him. Sam didn't struggle, just looked back and waved. Rocket Sensei looked so small, standing on the deck as he watched Sam leave. He raised his hand in return, but his ears were drooping and tail low. Not a normal farewell but Rocket Sensei hadn't given him any indication that there was danger here. Sam needed to figure out what he missed while he'd been out of commission and Peter was his best bet. He could always find the Guardians again later, anyway.

While the docking bay looked fairly standard, the corridors were anything but. There was utilitarian carpeting, warm Earth natural lighting instead of harsh alien star lighting _obviously, Alexander, this is an Earth ship,_ the signage was in Mandarin, Spanish, Hindi and English with each language the same font size. He frowned. _Why all of these but no braille?_ He didn't ask but it made him uneasy. The walls had inset antigrav grips, something most species didn't bother with. The texture of the floor panels were rough enough for most species that didn't wear shoes to be able to run without having problems stopping or sliding around. There weren't exactly murals painted along the corridor walls but there were three lines travelling horizontally, blue red and gold. Sam assumed it was yet another Star Trek reference. Peter clearly held too much power if he was the source of all of this nerdery. But there were surprisingly few spiders so maybe he'd had some kind of moderation. Or someone else was to blame for it.

The guards they passed were more LMDs or something like it, clearly robots and not alive. They didn't salute. Sam was beginning to wonder if there were any other humans on this ship. Until they passed through a corridor junction. 

There were people here, unaltered humans and humans with visible mutations. Though Sam had no way of knowing that the vast majority of those humans were not mutants but inhumans and mutates. The first one to notice them froze in place and dropped their tablet, which caused others to look up. It was like a surreal wave of shocked, stunned awe sweeping down the corridor. Anyone that managed to get it together saluted with crisp military precision and held it until they passed. It was beyond strange. Peter hated formalities. Especially military ones. The looks of awe and the way everyone stared at not Peter but Sam were disquieting and disconcerting and probably some more dis-something words but it boiled down to Sam not liking it.

"Looks like I've missed out on a lot of changes. Sheesh, what happened? Get tired of waiting for me so you built a ship?" Sam said, trying to fall back on something familiar, like bantering. Sam noted absently that there were clearly marked panels containing environmental suits within each set of equally clearly marked blast doors. 

Peter laughed. Like, way more than Sam expected. Then he said, sober and serious, "I've missed you, Sam."

"Yeah, same," Sam said, feeling awkward and uneasy. Especially at the sadness on Peter’s face. But then Peter beamed at him and Sam felt something settle. This was Peter Parker! What was he so hung up on? Sam needed a break, that was all. A break and some therapy. Maybe booze. Whichever worked fastest. _Don't even start, idiot._

"And no silly, I didn't build **a** ship to come find you!" Peter declared, waiting for Sam to roll his eyes before interrupting Sam to say, "I built a whole new fleet!"

Sam stared at him, blinking. He had to be joking. An entire fleet? Then Peter led him into a room marked with a green plus-cross symbol. It looked like a _flarking_ spa. Who put spas on warships? None of this was making sense. 

"No seriously! We've got a whole squadron of command ships now! Every Goliath class command center has its own support division of cruisers, troop transports, carriers, supply ships. The works! Oh it's so wonderful Sam! We've learned so much more about the universe since you've been gone! I can't believe it took us so long to get off Earth! Thank fuck for Stryfe. If not for him we'd be starving radiation zombies! But here we are! In space!"

Sam had no idea who this Stryfe guy was, what Peter meant by the whole zombie thing, or what the hell had happened while he'd been captured to cause such a massive political shift on Earth that multiple fleets had been commissioned, built, and sent out on missions. Sam looked around, trying to take it all in. Everything was done up in soothing blues. There were plants in fancy pots, a water feature making gentle noises of water running over rocks, dim lighting. Seemingly the works. Except there were no chairs and no desk and no receptionist. 

"I don't think I'm awake enough for this. Maybe you can brief me later?" Sam said. A squat little bot with the same green plus-cross symbol on it as the room left its alcove and began scanning Sam.

"Doctor's offices are always so stressful, yanno? This is way better, isn't it?" Peter said, bouncing in place. But there was something almost stilted in his tone. Like he was forcing himself to sound more cheerful than he really was. Sam looked at him but his expression gave nothing away. Weird.

"Yeah, it's so chill I thought this was some kinda spa," Sam said in agreement.

"Nice. But nah, this isn't the spa,” Peter said, he sounded just fine now, but he looked Sam over with concern. And definitely sadness and something maybe even deeper that made Sam feel wrong and guilty.

"There's… you're serious? There's a spa? I thought this was a war ship?" Sam said, flabbergasted. What the hell was going on here?

"No no no, _The_ _Bird Eater_ isn't a war ship! She's a command center! She's the biggest and, in **my** opinion, the best! Though I guess the _Funnel Web_ is nearly as good as the _Bird_ _Eater._ It has to be to be run by Lord Watson after all."

"Lord?" Sam said, completely confused. Watson was MJ, it had to be.

Peter laughed, but it was off. Sam was again uneasy. Then the medical bot chimed and holo screens displayed readouts for Peter to review. Sam looked over it as well. He hadn't been sure what to expect but it hadn't been seeing his newest breaks and scars and healed physical traumas all listed against the ones he'd had before he'd left. God, how long had it been? A year? It was definitely a lot of healed damage. But healed it was, he’d wasted no time getting back into fighting readiness when he’d recovered his helmet. He didn't need anything from Medical, Peter was just being a worry wort like usual. Except he wasn't. Not really. He was quiet, not loud. And Peter's expression was something else. Sam had never seen such a hard and dangerous expression on his usually kind and caring face. Again Sam felt uneasy. What was going on? What had happened in the time he'd been gone? How long **had** he been gone? He’d been avoiding asking Worldmind just that out of fear of the answer. All he knew for sure was it was **too long**.

"Don't worry, my little light bulb. I'll take care of it," Peter said, so quiet and warm. It didn't make any more sense than anything else. And the way he looked at Sam was unnerving. It left him feeling… strange. Weird. Like there was something else Peter was expecting from him. 

"Okay," Sam said, unable to untangle anything useful to respond with. Peter's smile was sharp and mildly terrifying.

"Let's get you settled in, Sparkplug," Peter told him, expression softening into something familiar and kind. Sam felt his worry ease. Peter had obviously had a rough time, and he trusted Sam enough to let his guard down. That's all it was.

  
  



	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: casual past mentions of torture, nothing graphic; short blink and you miss it sex scene near the beginning; at the end a fairly graphic smut scene

Peter led Sam to his cabin. Or, actually, his quarters. The walk there wasn't short but it wasn't overly long either, not that Sam was walking right now. He was hovering even with Peter. The walls kept their stripes up until a junction with three other corridors. There they split off one for each hallway. Peter led Sam down the one with a red stripe.

Sam's quarters were extravagant beyond belief. They were so lavish Sam didn't immediately follow Peter inside. Peter twirled around to face him and spread his arms out, clearly trying to show off the rooms. There was a **lot** of red. Everywhere. And everywhere that wasn't red was some shade of blue or gold. This seemed almost like a waiting room of some kind. But Sam was both unsure and too tired to figure this out.

Cautiously, Sam followed Peter inside. He was still hovering. For all that most Nova had found it more taxing on them than simply walking, for Sam it had always been easy. By now it was practically mental muscle memory. The rugs in here were so thick and plush he couldn't hear Peter's footsteps. The lighting in here was dimmer than out in the corridors. There were two servants here. Wearing red silks and sheer fabrics. Their dress sent Sam’s adrenaline rushing, and not from lust. They were nervous and not making eye contact with him. But this was Peter. These had to be servants not slaves. No. He was just projecting. He shoved the thought aside.

"What do ya think?" Peter said, sounding and looking so precious and eager for Sam's approval that it was even easier for him to put Peter's strange and unsettling behavior out of mind. 

"It's big," Sam said. He just wanted to sleep. God. "Where's the bed?"

Peter laughed all bright and warm. Sam’s stomach fluttered though he didn’t know why. He followed Peter and the two servants followed him. They went through too many other rooms before finally reaching a bedroom so incredibly lavish Sam was at a loss. The servants hadn’t been introduced and Sam really did not like how they were being ignored. He looked at them then looked to Peter, too exhausted to say anything.

"Oh, these are your personal care personnel. It’s just the two of them for now but don't worry Love, more are on the way. Just tell them what you need and poof, it's here. They're also excellent at relaxing you after a stressful day. Especially Erica! She used to be mine, my fave honestly, but only the best for my Starshine! And I'm sure you don't mind sharing if the mood strikes," Peter told him. He waggled his eyebrows and gave Sam a companionable elbow to the side. Like they were both in on a joke or something. Sam hoped that’s all he meant. He did not have the energy for literally any of this.

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, when it seemed Peter was actually expecting a response. Peter beamed at him in delight. The servant, Erica, looked relieved. Sam went on, desperate to make the weirdness stop. "Hey, Webs, I'm practically dead on my feet-" Peter giggled and elbowed him again, right, he was currently floating, what a nerd "-you know what I mean. I'm beat. I just wanna sleep for like a week. Can we do all this," Sam gave a half assed gesture to the rooms, "later? Like, after I feel at least halfway human again."

"Oh, of course my little Lightbulb, you know how I get. I'll let you rest, we'll finish sight seeing in the morning," Peter said, all soft and sweet. Then he pulled Sam to him and kissed him so thoroughly Sam lost concentration and stopped floating. Peter laughed all low and stupidly attractive when he'd finished. Sam stumbled back, too stunned and exhausted to do anything more than gape at Peter in shock. Peter caressed his face gently and said, "I've missed you so much my sweet Nova. We'll catch up in the morning. Good rest."

Sam stared after him, more lost than ever.

"Lord Nova," the not yet introduced servant said, quiet and seemingly calm. Sam turned to her. Why **were** his 'personal personnel' women? Especially since Peter apparently knew he was bi. _That wasn't just a kiss though,_ Sam thought. The way Peter had been calling him **his** this entire time hadn't really concerned Sam. But now… He swallowed and took off his helmet. He wasn't awake enough for this, and as helpful as Worldmind was Sam still needed to focus his attention to talk with it.

Sam reluctantly let this servant take away his helmet. As strange as everything here was, he wasn't terribly worried about losing it. Sam flinched away from Erica unbuckling his belt. But at her badly hidden look of fear he grunted in what he hoped was an agreeable way and settled. She reached again for his belt and when he stayed still she was so clearly relieved Sam felt like an ass. Even though he didn't really want someone else undressing him. Ugh.

Instead of leading him to the bed they led him to the bath. Of course they did. Sam stared back at the exceptionally comfortable looking bed wistfully. Though having two beautiful ladies scrubbing him clean was nice. The bathroom was more like some kind of fancy spa than an actual bath. Especially considering they were on a starship. It wasn't familiar to Sam as being from 'Earth'. But he knew well enough that humanity was unusual in how many and how varied its cultures were. Most species had one culture. Rarely perhaps two. Still. This was all unfamiliar to Sam wherever it had been based on. The most unfamiliar thing was being seated to get scrubbed clean. The two servants were very good and his already exhausted self dozed. He blinked and snorted awake when they ran water over his head to rinse out the suds from his hair. They weren't so careless as to get any soap or even water on his face, but it was enough of a surprise to wake him.

He stretched, joints popping and muscles aching. When he stood, intending to dry off and finally see how comfortable the absurdly luxurious bed was, they blocked him in with their bodies. They looked anxious. Sam glowered and thought, but didn’t say, _I just want some flarking sleep_

"Lord Nova, please let us help ease your stress. If you sleep we are strong enough to carry you to your bed," Erica said. She sounded very sure but was clearly putting on a brave face. Sam was stymied. But at his lack of clear denial or command, they both cautiously lead him to the bath proper. It was just shy of searing hot and smelled like green tea. _If Peter hadn't left me with these ladies I'd swear they were trying to make Nova soup._

They were, of course, not doing any such thing. They began gently caressing his chest and shoulders. They were so good at 'easing his stress' that Sam fell asleep sitting up in the bath. He jerked awake in surprise at the firm, sure grip on his dick and nearly freaking drowned flailing away. The angry lecture on **boundaries** and **personal space** died on his lips before he could even get out more than an incensed "What the _flark_?!"

They were terrified of him. Sam swallowed. What the hell was going **on.** Why would anyone under Peter's command be so afraid? Peter was a good leader. Certainly never violent to his teammates or students. Well, there was training of course but outside of training never. And even during he wasn't excessively brutal with anyone.

"Sorry, about…" Sam trailed off. _Why the hell am_ **_I_ ** _the one apologizing for_ **_getting_ ** _groped._ Sam tried to reorder his thoughts and went on, "uh, it's been a real shitty few months, years maybe. So, maybe none of that when I'm asleep," _or awake either. Servants aren't supposed to be afraid like this,_ memories of painful, recent and unaddressed trauma paralyzed him for a few moments, he knew what fear like that meant, _but slaves sure as hell are._ He steadied his breathing and offered "Let's finish up? Dry me off, please?"

"Of course, Lord Nova," they said, relief nearly tangible. While having beautiful people at his beck and call was tempting, very, very tempting. He definitely wasn't going to be doing anything until he was completely sure they really were here and offering because they actually wanted this and not out of fear of punishment.

_Maybe they just have no idea who I am,_ Sam thought. They were leading him back to the bed now, though he was only in a stupidly soft and smooth silk robe. Still…

"You ladies are absolutely beautiful, but I am just way too tired for anything other than sleep," Sam said, unintentionally punctuating his declaration with a yawn.

"Of course Lord Nova," they declared, it wasn't really in unison but it was still uncanny. Though the whole 'Lord Nova' thing was nice. It definitely helped him stay present in the here and now.

He didn't remember falling asleep.

* * *

When he bolted awake in a sleep hazed panic, he wasn't alone. Voices rough with sleep called out questions he was too panicked to hear. He didn't recognize them either, which meant strangers. More fellow prisoners from their kind tones. _They won't last long caring like that._ He didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of what were basically total strangers. _They'll turn on me just like the others. Just like everyone in this hell._ But they were both awake now and trying to soothe him. Mostly with their voices and words. Sam slowly returned back to himself. _They're all gone. There's no more prisoners_ , _no more wardens. You're safe Alexander. I'm safe._ At least the servants hadn't immediately touched him, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd have done. Being touched gently after waking up like this had never really come up since before his capture.

Sam managed to at least control his breathing and hold up a hand in what he hoped was a reassuring way. They settled only a bit, he still didn't know the name of his other… servant… yeah. he was going with that.

"Nightmares," he said, once he was sure his voice wouldn't shake. Bad enough he was now clammy with fear-sweat and still trembling. _God_ . _Is it really nightmares if it's just memories?_ But he wasn't going to tell these two anything more than he had. No need to give them PTSD, too. "Not touching me was a good call. I'm okay now -" _as if I’ll_ **_ever_ ** _be okay again, hah_. "Gonna be awake for a while though, it's cool, get back to sleep."

Neither of them responded verbally, but they did nothing more than watch him as he got out of bed. He could live with that, he left the lights dimmed to try and convince them to actually sleep. Sam started stretching. He needed to burn off the anxiousness or he'd just fall back into the nightmare-dream-memory. He didn't really care for their watching of him but once he finished stretching and fell into his workout routine he honestly forgot that they were there. When he finished he was pleasantly surprised to find them waiting with water to drink and towels to wipe away his sweat. Then immediately guilty because he really didn't know if they were here because they wanted to be or because they had no choice. Still, this wasn't sex so he drank the water and wiped his face with the offered towel.

"Thanks," he said, looking them both over in quiet contemplation. They were nude, _Do_ _they like sleeping naked or..._ Sam wondered if they wanted to be or because it was required. Being much more awake now, Sam could see they had no bruises anywhere on their person. No collars or electronic obedience tools either. That was definitely a good thing. Sam felt ridiculous and ashamed for thinking the worst of a man as good as Peter Parker.

They both seemed surprised at his thanks, which Sam was sure was weird. Surely Peter was still, well, Peter enough that he thanked anyone helping him. Servant or not.

"What's with all this kowtowing? Didn't anyone else thank you? Do I need to kick Peter's ass? He definitely knows better than to be rude," Sam blurted out. _Hell_. But instead of anything he'd feared happening they both started laughing. He sulked and huffed and grumbled out, "I can totally kick his ass, no need to be rude, sheesh."

"Of course, Lord Nova," the as yet unnamed woman said with a giggle. Sam was honestly relieved. And embarrassed that he still hadn't asked her for her name.

"It's just, well, absurd to think of Lord Parker as being anything other than attentive to us," Erica explained. That was **also** good. And… concerning? Sam wasn't entirely sure but he'd gotten the impression that Peter maybe didn't want to have sex. At all. He certainly never dated anyone, and MJ would totally have gossiped with him about it if he had! So the implications that Peter definitely had all the sex now was at least kind of weird.

"Oh," Sam said. Sam managed to resist touching his own lips. But he couldn't help the shiver of excitement at remembering the all consuming kiss Peter had given him when he'd said goodnight. Maybe Peter had just been overworking himself before, not giving himself the time he needed to care for a relationship. _Does Peter want a relationship with me?_ Sam wondered. He'd certainly been anything but subtle calling Sam his. At the time he'd thought Peter had just been being clingy at Sam for having been gone for so long. Sam still wasn't ready to deal with that, though. "I need a shower."

"Of course my Lord," said she-that-was-unnamed and Sam again felt like a jerk.

"I'm sorry, what's your name, ladies? Pete called you Erica, is that what you want me to call you? He didn't bother to introduce us though, rude _flarking_ spider I swear," Sam said to them both, they again seemed put at ease by Sam's familiarity with Peter. _Maybe it really is just a fear of me, I definitely never met either of them before._ It felt weird that any human was afraid of him but at least it made a kind of sense. Whatever had gone on since he'd been captured didn't seem to be quite so terrifying with that in mind.

"I'm Denny, my Lord," Denny informed him. Okay, good. Names were good.

"And yes my Lord, I am Erica," Erica said.

"And I'm Sam. Great. Sorry it took me so long to be polite. Guess I better kick my own ass, huh?" Sam said, smiling one of his charming smiles for them. At least he meant for it to be charming, he still wasn't entirely sure his expressions were anything like they had been before getting captured. Was it a good thing that they were both calling him 'my Lord' instead of 'lord Nova'? He wasn’t exactly sure but thought so. Their laughter at his teasing was reassuring. It didn't sound forced or fake. _You're just being paranoid, Alexander. Chill TF out._ He told himself.

Unsurprisingly, they joined him in the shower. It was a real water shower, too. That was actually more luxurious in a starship than the size of his rooms, even the bath water could be recycled in the basin with the right tech.

Sam groaned unabashedly loud and shamelessly long as he stood under the water. "God, I can't remember the last time I had a shower. A real one, I mean."

"As opposed to a pretend shower, Lord Sam?" Denny said, sounding shy but clearly trying to tease him. Teasing was good. And surely using Sam instead of Nova was also good? Teasing him at least meant they were getting comfortable, less afraid and more relaxed.

"Sonic showers, Denny. They get you clean but that's all that can be said for 'em," Sam responded.

“Of course, Lord,” Denny responded, quiet and easy. She probably already knew that, of course. _Not being the only human from space is going to take some getting used to._

Soft, sure hands began rubbing at his back and his arms. Sam sighed, letting himself enjoy the hot water and hotter attention. When Erica's hands wandered lower and continued touching him long after he was clean, Sam didn't have it in him to protest. After, he was so relaxed he didn't even know how he made it back to the bed. He pulled his ladies in with him, they gave no protest and he fell asleep thoroughly snuggled by them both. He slept dreamlessly. Half waking to reach sleepily for his nearest bedmate more than once. 

* * *

"Time to wake, Lord Sam," Erica sang. She had a terrible singing voice. Or maybe Sam was just uncharitable because his rest was being interrupted. He groaned obnoxiously and buried his head under a pillow.

"Now, now, Lord Sam. It’s time to wake. You've a busy day planned," Denny said, she sounded more amused than anything.

"No I don't. I'm sleepy. Good night," Sam said, but apparently instead of intimidating he was cute. At least he figured that's what their giggles meant.

"Well sleepy or not Lord Parker demands your presence at brunch," Erica informed him.

Sam groaned yet again, louder and much more annoyed. "Since when is Peter Parker a morning person? What the _flark_ happened. Tell him to fuck off."

The sheets were unceremoniously yanked away and Sam squirmed under the dubious safety of the absurd amount of pillows for cover. There was giggling and Sam could feel the mattress shift as his ladies climbed onto the bed. All kinds of wildly inappropriate ideas and feelings flooded through Sam at the possessive thought. They’d seemed perfectly happy getting him off in the shower… He mentally shook the thoughts away. He needed to find out what happened while he'd been captured, then and only then would he let himself even think about those sorts of things. He couldn't afford distractions. Not with everything so strange and almost wrong.

His… attendants… were much more dressed than he himself was. Though their manner of dress was again extremely revealing. It was all reds again but different clothing. They were a bit nervous, as if Sam might be different now in the light of ship's day. Sam let himself be dragged out of bed with nothing more than ridiculous, clearly dramatic whining. He let them guide and direct him into his clothes without protest. He wanted, very much, to complain and slap their hands away from his person. But they were finally seeming to trust him to not flip out and hit or yell or whatever the _flark_ they were afraid of him doing. He settled for a grumbled complaint, "I can dress myself, you know."

"Of course my Lord," came the quiet agreement. He huffed and fussed at his hair. Though maybe he'd been hasty in his assessment of his ability to dress himself. These clothes were nearly alien to him. He felt like a peacock. When his attendants were finished with his clothes they set to work on his hair; ruining his own efforts and gently shooing away his own hands. Rude.

"Are you going to brush my _flarking_ teeth too?" Sam snarked, not trusting himself to show his frustration in any other way.

"If my Lord wills it," Denny replied. Erica hummed agreement, clearly busy with his hair. The brushing felt nice, he could at least admit that. His hair was longer than he was used to, his usual style was impossible. Not to mention he had something of a beard going on. No doubt they were going to try and groom his face too. 

"Your Lord does **not** will it. I can brush my own _das't_ teeth please and thank you," Sam retorted. They both agreed, easy as anything. Sam was suspicious. But he needn't have been. There were sonic toothbrushes and neither of his ladies even tried to brush his teeth. Instead, they took the time to hold up various, completely unnecessary, accessories against his outfit and toss them aside when they didn't meet whatever criteria for acceptable they were using.

Once he finished with his teeth he looked over his beard in the mirror. It was fuller than it'd ever been. It had taken so long to grow it out. But he'd not wanted to. He sighed and accepted the ridiculous fact that now that he finally had a beard that looked good he wasn't even going to keep it. Denny, it seemed, was not on the same wavelength and was now approaching him with what was undoubtedly too fancy beard oil.

"I don't want to keep the beard," Sam said, stepping away from her. She frowned and tilted her head. Sam bristled instinctively but bit back his sharp retort.

"Are you sure? You do look very dashing with it," Denny said. Sam shivered at her accidental use of words that had been used to try and break him. But she looked more confused than contrary. Sam tried to put the memories out of mind.

"We don't mind a bit of beard burn my Lord, and you do look very handsome indeed," Erica said, clearly trying to encourage him into keeping it. But it just made him feel like throwing up.

He reminded himself that they had no idea what he had been through, and definitely no idea what he was thinking. He took three steadying breaths. "I'm not keeping it. If I want another I'll grow it out again."

They fawned and fussed over him but they did shave his face. He was too much of a wreck to even be mad at the implication he couldn't do this himself. Mostly because his hands were literally shaking so bad he'd very likely slit his own throat on accident. Who the hell used straight razors in the _flarking_ twenty first century, anyways?

He tried to protest the jewelry. There were bangles, and a necklace, and a freaking tiara.

“My Lord it's a diadem,” Denny replied, sounding exasperated.

“No it _flarking_ isn’t Denny, it’s a princess tiara,” Sam said. His very reasonable response fell on uncaring ears.

Sam glowered at his reflection. He looked like an idiot.

"There we are my Lord! You look stunning!" Erica declared.

"Oh, Lord Sam, you're going to—" 

Sam interrupted their praises to declare, "I look like an asshole that doesn't know which end of a blaster is the shooty end."

They shushed him and giggled.

"Rude," Sam complained. The clothes were comfortable enough, but Sam still wished for his plain, boring chino pants and layered shirts. He felt so out of place. Felt even more like an imposter in these strange, unfamiliar clothes. He tried, yet again, to sneak the bangles off of his wrists. Yet for all the fear these two had shown him earlier last night they were utterly fearless now in keeping him dressed just how they wanted. Sam huffed another grumpy 'rude' before heading out. Then stopped like a fool and looked a bit helplessly at Erica, then Denny. "I have no idea where I'm going."

They smiled at him sympathetically, at least Sam thought it was in sympathy. 

"It's all a bit overwhelming at first," Denny said. She definitely wasn't sounding anything other than genuine.

"Lord Parker often forgets just how massive our home really is," Erica said, seeming to agree. Sam huffed but couldn't help the stupid fond smile at this very familiar foible of Peter’s still being present in this strange new world.

"Same old Peter. He'd forget his head if it wasn't webbed on," Sam said. He was acutely aware of how fond he sounded about this very annoying character flaw of Parker's. It would be embarrassing if Peter or any of their old team heard him. But these two women smiled so genuinely happy at him that Sam was glad for it.

"Well, it certainly isn't our place to say otherwise," Erica said, looking amused.

"Here, Lord Sam, your data pad should help you get around until you're more used to everything." Denny said, offering him a slim electronic notebook.

"Don't worry my Lord, _The Bird Eater_ only sounds scary. She's a good home and there is no safer place in all the universe," Erica said, clearly going for reassuring. 

Sam took the pad with thanks and a smile and went on his way. _This isn’t a cruiser, Dios_. Sam thought. The size of the ship he was on was mind boggling. And Peter had said there were **even** **more** of them? Peter had said yesterday about this ship being a command center. Commanding more than supply and civilian transport ships, too. It was so unlike the Peter he knew. 

"What happened, Webs?" Sam muttered to himself. Peter's servants had been waiting for him just outside of the area where the corridors had a single fat red stripe in place of the triple colors that Sam recalled more clearly from last night.

They were not showing the absolutely gobsmacked look of awe he'd seen on the crew last night, but they were definitely looking at him with reverence. They were also very scantily dressed, much like Sam's own two servants had been. Unlike his own servants they were in blues. 

"Lord Nova, this way please," one of them said, bowing and gesturing down a corridor with blue instead of red striping. _Huh, are we color coded? Denny and Erica are all in red, and these servants are all in blues. But then why are my own clothes blue and gold? If I'm red and Peter is blue…_ Sam swallowed _,_ remembering yet again Peter's possessiveness and affection, and most especially his parting kiss _...oh._

"Lead the way," Sam said with a nod. They flushed and the both of them proceeded to… well they definitely were drawing attention to their 'assets' as they led Sam through the corridors. Sam flushed and did his best to keep his eyes facing dead ahead. These servants had much more jewelry on them than Sam's own, and all of it was spider themed. It was difficult, but Sam bit his tongue on all the teasing and snarky thoughts. He'd just have to twit Peter over it instead.

When he stepped through the doors he was again taken aback by the extravagance of it. It was primarily blue with golds and reds for accent. He'd been imagining fancy wooden tables with plush chairs. Not whatever the hell **this** was. It felt like something out of a major holo vid, or maybe out of a less-than-wholesome vid come to think of it. There were certainly way more scantily clad humans than Sam had been expecting. Peter bounded over to him with his spider grace, but not before Sam had a plenty good look at his lazy sprawl along a… a freaking fainting couch or whatever the hell they were called. Peter again lifted him up in a spider strong hug. Sam was trying to reconcile the man hugging the breath out of his lungs with the man he remembered from Earth. Peter had been so… so **humble.** So uncomfortable with genuine praise and pleasant attention that Sam, not just Sam but yes Sam, had been concerned. It was literally unimaginable that the same humble man was now apparently used to being hand fed by beautiful people in stupidly luxurious clothes, and comfort, and **everything.** Sam managed to hug Peter back and wheeze out something like a greeting. 

Peter stood him back down after a truly excessive time hugging him breathless. He gazed into his eyes and Sam was surprised at the heartbreak and raw sadness. But then it was gone and Peter was smiling and crying and hugging Sam yet again.

Brunch was so surreal that Sam couldn't have told anyone what he ate even if his life depended on it. Peter was as handsome as ever, and so flirty and down right sappy that Sam genuinely had no idea how to respond. Instead of sitting down at a table using chairs, or even kneeling at a low table. They were apparently sitting on the freaking floor. Well, pillows and such that were on the floor. Peter's servants held plates and drinks and knelt or sat or stood around them. Sam looked to Peter for guidance, many of the drinks turned out to be alcoholic, which sucked. There was water and juice at least. 

When Peter pulled him onto his lap Sam froze. Peter noticed immediately and looked up at him so heartbroken that Sam blurted out "I don't remember!" 

"Oh Sam," Peter said, all kind and sweet and wonderful. The servants crooned sympathies and Sam's skin crawled. He was on the verge of tears and the very **thought** of **so many strangers watching him** was making his heart race and breath short.

"Alone. Please," Sam managed to gasp out. Thankfully the servants didn't wait for Peter's order. Not that Peter had done anything other than reinforce Sam's request. 

"I'm so sorry. I should have realized sooner, my sweet Sam," Peter said. Sam leaned his forehead against Peter's shoulder and shook. "It's okay. We can be whatever you want. It's alright. No pressure my Love."

"How?" Sam said, feeling broken. Not even able to get out anything more coherent. _How could I forget you? How can you be okay being forgotten? How is any of this my life_ ? Captivity had apparently done him even worse than he'd realized if he could remember nothing of his and Peter's relationship. Which obviously they must have had for Peter to be like **this** with him.

"That's okay that you don't remember being with me. I'm sorry, Love. I won't push you, just know that I love you more than life itself. I'll do anything you need to keep you happy," Peter told him. So earnest and caring and full of love Sam was sure he must be dead.

"I finally lost it," Sam said. Lost and confused and too terrified of this reality to accept it. It was the only thing that made sense, really. He'd been imprisoned, starved, tortured for so long. His mind had finally snapped and flung him into a fantasy to stop the pain.

"No, never again Sam. I'll never lose you again! You're mine! You're here with me, you're safe. You're safe Love, safer than you've ever been, I promise. I promise, Sam. No strings, nothing. Just knowing you're here and you’re safe is enough I swear," Peter insisted, starting with an intensity Sam barely recognized. But he finished as sweet and soft as he'd been before.

"Seriously?" Sam said. How could Peter be even the littlest bit okay with that? Sam had forgotten **everything**. None of this was familiar in the least way. "Because I don't know if I'm okay with that. I can't remember anything, Pete. You… you love me so much and I only remember joking around with you. Only remember you teasing me like an ass. That's it! How could you possibly be okay with that?"

"You're alive," Peter told him. So calm and sure that he was serene.

“Oh,” Sam said, awed. He stopped fighting himself and let go. He slumped down onto Peter and poured out all of the pain trapped inside onto his solid shoulder. Peter held him through it, no empty platitudes. Just his warm, strong presence holding him close. Sam cried until he had no tears left. He was so exhausted, and hollow, like he’d drained everything that had been stuck inside of him through his tears. 

"I'm so sorry, my Love. I’m sorry I’ve lost you," Peter murmured. Sam was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that, he was most of the way to sleep after all. And it didn’t make any sense, anyways. Sam wasn’t lost. Sam was here. Sam tried to say something reassuring but it probably didn't come out as more than a sleepy mumble. Especially since Peter responded with, "Shhh, it's alright now. Sleep."

Sam slept.

* * *

##### [line break]

Sam woke up only partially dressed and back in his bed. His new, way too big, way too comfortable bed. _Who the hell thinks beds are too comfy._ Peter wasn't here. Sam didn't know how to feel about that. He was beyond grateful for Peter's kindness. For his comfort and love. But at the same time, Sam didn't know how he should react around him. Was he supposed to act like his memory held that he should? Was he supposed to instead act how Peter no doubt needed him to act? What even did Sam **want**? 

"Good question, Alexander," he muttered to himself. "What the hell **do** I want?"

He didn't know. 

Was he supposed to keep letting his 'personal care personnel' get him off? Peter had definitely been insinuating sharing Erica between them last night. Sam thought on that. It was incredibly hot. But also… kind of weird? How could Peter even stand sharing Sam if he really did love him so much? Sam certainly didn’t want to share Peter!

Peter loved him **so much**. 

There was no doubt in Sam’s mind how deeply Peter loved him. Not now. He scrubbed his hand down his face, _what am I going to do?_ He didn’t know. Did he want to be with Peter? Was he okay sharing Peter with others? He had no idea. Well, he knew he didn’t want to share Peter at all. But it also didn’t seem fair to Peter, maybe? He’d been gone so long. And it wasn’t like Sam was **mad** at Peter over it. It was obvious that Sam was missing a very long time in his memories.

What was Sam supposed to do with Denny and Erica, his ladies? Should he tell Peter that they’d given him a hand job? Should he stop them in the future? Speaking of his ladies, where were they now? Did they have actual jobs beyond keeping Sam? It made him feel ridiculous, realizing he had **keepers** now. But also… kind of nice? _It's definitely nice._ Sam decided that he'd not actively pursue them but would let these lovely women have their way with him if they wanted him again. That felt better than actively chasing tail when someone as sweet and sappy as Peter was declaring his (extremely unquestionably believably) undying love for him. 

Besides, how thirsty could they possibly be? They barely knew him, and had so far only seen him at some of his lowest points. He hasn't exactly been top seduction material, freaking out over their first attempted hand job then waking them up with his nightmares. Yes, they'd gotten him off last night. But last night in the shower had felt more like the natural end to their amazing massage instead of actual desire on their parts. Mind at least partially made up, he stretched and got out of bed. He made a face at the neatly stacked jewelry he'd been wearing earlier and prowled around his bedroom. There were closets and dressers, sensibly secured to the flooring in the event of a gravity failure. He didn't get far in exploring though, Denny bustled in as if called for. And Hell, maybe she'd been alerted to his restless wakefulness by sensors. He absolutely wouldn't put it past Peter to have that kind of crap installed in his quarters.

"Hey Denny, what's up?" Sam asked, trying to put his hands in his pockets and feign nonchalance. The effort was a failure, because apparently he didn't have pockets. So Sam immediately complained, "What kind of pants don't have pockets?"

"Your pants, my Lord," Denny said, amused.

"Just my pants? Out of this entire moon sized starship? Ugh, this is a prank isn't it? I finally get dragged out of a literal hell hole and come back to no pocket pants. _Flarking_ rude," Sam said, speaking much more than he'd intended.

"No my Lord, it's not a prank. You prefer… or preferred, I suppose, these styles before your departure," Denny said. Sam felt like he'd been punched right in the gut.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? After a painful, awkward wait (at least on his part) he asked, "Did… did you serve me? Before, I mean."

"No, my Lord. All of your prior staff moved on to other postings after… well. After," Denny told him, bringing over his overshirt and dressing him in it, she guided his hands into the pockets hiding in the loose sleeves. Well. That explained the pants. There was also a smaller pocket hidden near his chest. He assumed for money of some kind, not that he'd seen any evidence of currency being used so far. But maybe that was just due to his social status?

"I… have no idea what.,." Sam trailed off and thought for a moment. "Yeah, no, that's completely accurate. I can't remember any of this. At all. So 'I have no idea what' about sums it up."

"It must be difficult. I wish there was a safe way to help you restore your memories my Lord. It's… it's possibly harmful to even confirm how long you've been away. Until we know more as to why and how your memories are lost," Denny said. Sam looked at her in surprise.

"You sure know a lot about human brains for… ah, sorry I swear if I have to think 'personal personnel' one more time I'm gonna throw Peter into the nearest Star. Christ he does not deserve the power to name things. It's just too much," Sam said, rambling in his embarrassment. _Way to go Alexander, real smooth passive aggressively insulting this lady that is stuck with you for_ _-basically-maybe-ever._

"I'm a doctor, or I was. It took some getting used to, all the changes after the Great Diaspora. Doctors are mostly replaced with bots these days. Unless you want to be in the front waves or in triage. And I've had quite enough of that to last for nine lifetimes, thank you kindly," Denny said, chatting away like it was nothing.

Sam stared at her blankly. Or stared blankly at where she'd been. She was guiding him to a low stool, ottoman, thing, whatever, he didn't care what it was called. She pushed against his shoulders to guide him to sit. Sam sat. She started brushing his hair. Finally he asked, hating how tentative his voice was, "You… I mean… is this… this is the job, the, the posting you want?" 

"Absolutely my Lord," Denny confirmed.

Sam tried to run his hand through his hair but was stopped by a gentle swat on his wrist. An actual doctor was brushing his hair and dressing him like a _flarking_ doll. What the fuck. "For fuck's sake, why? You're an actual medical doctor and instead of, of, of using that degree and knowledge and everything you spent your life working towards you're seriously happy with- with! With pampering me?!"

Denny sighed and patted his shoulder. "I enjoy this. Isn't that enough of a reason to do anything? Especially accept a posting that's ideally for life?"

Sam didn't have anything else to say to that. Still reeling with the knowledge that, apparently, playing dress up with Nova was some kind of rewarding experience and not a demotion or punishment. He accepted his diadem without protest. Blessedly, Denny didn't give him any other jewelry.

"Let's get you up, come on my Lord," Denny said. And while it wasn't especially smothering, honestly quite relaxed, Sam felt suddenly suffocated. Sam followed her guidance on autopilot, trying desperately to hide his distress. _That's a stupid thing to be upset over, Christ, this intelligent, gorgeous lady wants to spend time with you and you flip your shit? Get it together Sam, what the fuck._

She didn't lead him far, relatively far. His quarters were massive. He didn't even know how many rooms he actually had. Peter was pacing along the ceiling in his den. _Is this a den? Maybe it's a sitting room. No, ugh, fucking Parker I bet whatever it's supposed to be called he calls it a parlor. How can he be such a nerd?_ Working on something on a digital notepad. He tossed it carelessly away when he saw Sam. Erica caught it with practiced ease. Huh. She really had been with Peter. Been with him long enough to expect his casual abuse of whatever he was holding when something new grabbed his attention at least.

"Sam! How are you feeling, better after getting all of that out? Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do? Just tell me and it's yours," Peter said, getting all of that out in one long breath on his way back to the floor and up in Sam's personal space. He clearly wanted to hug him again but was respecting Sam's boundaries. Well, as much as Peter could respect boundaries. He hovered over him and kept trying to reach for him and stopping himself. It was familiar and strangely soothing. Sam felt halfway back to normal already. Peter looked concerned and was definitely hovering and smothering. But again the familiarity of his mother henning felt comforting instead of claustrophobic.

"I'm better, yeah," Sam said. He still wasn't entirely sure how to act around Peter but he tentatively leaned into his hovering hands. Peter pulled him into a slightly less bone crushing hug than earlier today. But it was still hearty and lifted Sam off of his feet. Well, okay then. This was happening. He hugged Peter back, unsure at first of, well, anything.

Peter stayed weirdly silent through the hug, but once Sam felt his shoulder getting wet he realized Peter was doing his manly silent tears thing. That just wouldn't do. Not after everything Peter had done for him. Sam tightened his grip and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to the side of Peter's head. Peter sobbed and pulled him down onto the floor. Sam did his best to be as solid a comfort for Peter now as Peter had been for him earlier.

It seemed to be working. Or, well, Peter was still clinging to him and crying which Sam figured was probably a healthy thing. It didn’t feel very good for Sam though, God. He wanted Peter to stop crying right now, he wanted him to be okay right now. Sam wasn’t dead after all, he was back. Sam felt incredibly guilty over his mismatched memories. Forgetting Peter’s clearly deep love for him felt like a betrayal of the worst sort.

“I’m here, I’m here Webs, I’m here now,” Sam finally said, feeling helpless and lost. Peter kept crying, though his sobs were much less frequent. Eventually, he stopped shaking altogether, though his tears were still falling. Once he was in this state, Erica passed a soft _, too soft,_ handkerchief Sam’s way and Sam set to wiping away Peter’s tears and snot with as much tenderness and care as he could manage.

Denny quietly set a tray of tea on the nearest low table. Once Peter gathered himself back together he hauled Sam with him over to the tea table. He sat back down onto the floor, Sam no longer in his lap. Sam knelt across from him and reached to pour the tea, only to find that it had already been poured. He passed a cup to Peter and took one for himself. The scent was unfamiliar to him. He wondered if it used to be a favorite of his. He stared at the tea as if it could tell him the secrets hiding in his own mind. 

"I've been thinking," Sam said, unconsciously pausing for a teasing quip. Peter instead made a very quiet and painfully earnest wordless sound, clearly encouragement for Sam to continue. Sam felt his throat tighten, took a sip of tea, and went on, "I have no idea what to do, or what I'm supposed to be doing—"

"Resting. That's it. Your job right now is to heal up, get better. Don't worry about anything else," Peter said, talking right over him. Typical Parker.

"You are. So rude." Sam said, rolling his eyes, "Look. First of all, stop interrupting. I know May taught you better. Second of all, there is no way you could think I'd not go nuts stuck in my room with nothing to do. But— no, no, shhh, shhh, shoosh," Sam reached over and pressed his finger to Peter's open mouth, "shoosh you. That's interrupting. Don't do it." Peter closed his mouth with surprising, and gratifying, speed. He clearly was going to explode in a fountain of words and no doubt guilt when Sam was done but Sam thought he could actually handle that now. Peter was so much more compliant than he remembered. That might have something to do with him thinking Sam had been dead for so long but he'd take it. "Now. What I was trying to say is everything is weird and new and even though I have no idea what's going on I'm really glad you're here."

Peter dropped his tea cup and reached for Sam's hand, pulling it away from his mouth to hold it tightly. Erica managed to grab the tea cup before too much had spilled onto Peter. Peter didn't even notice. He looked like he was maybe about to start crying again, or possibly just needed to fart real bad, but Sam appreciated the effort to keep it in anyways.

"And, I… well I really can't remember us. But I'm willing to maybe try? I... I don't know what 'us' is going to look like. But, you know, you're a pretty amazing guy. And if you think it's not too painful, I'd like to get to know you. Um, again." Sam said. Peter looked so hopeful and happy and everything good that Sam knew he’d made the right call. 

Peter bowled him over, spilling Sam's tea and squashing him against the rug. Sam wheezed and resigned himself to Peter always hugging him just a smidge too hard. It was an easy thing to bear, especially with how happy Peter was. It made Sam feel so nice, being the reason Peter… being Peter's reason for everything. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Peter chanted as he pressed kisses all over Sam's face. Sam laughed. Peter kissed him now, hot and heavy and desperate. Sam did his best to match Peter's intensity. Peter pulled him again onto his lap, this time though, Sam continued to match his energy and eagerness. He might not be able to match his desperation but Peter didn't seem to mind. Sam rocked his hips and Peter pulled him in close enough that their erections were touching through the extremely thin and, Sam was now realizing, really really nice feeling fabric of his pants.

"Love you, love you so much Sam, God, I won't mess this up I swear, I swear," Peter sobbed out. Sam kissed him in an effort to quiet him. The declarations of love were fine, made Sam feel all giddy and gooey even, but the sobbing was the opposite of sexy. Peter obliged him with fervor and desperate passion. He practically mauled Sam's neck and definitely cheated by targeting as many of Sam's weak points as he could reach with his mouth and his hands. Sam did his damnedest to retaliate but clearly Peter had the advantage.

"Fuck, Pete ‘m gonna come if you-"

"Good. Come. Please baby, please," Peter said, breathing heavy. He didn't even try to get Sam's clothes off, grabbing at him through his pants and stroking him exactly perfect. 

"Aight," Sam said, letting go. His orgasm was intense and Peter stroked him through it, telling him how beautiful and perfect he was the entire time. It was amazing and incredible and something he hoped he never forgot again.

When Sam finished, Peter held him to his chest achingly tight and shook. Sam nuzzled against him and pressed gentle kisses to his neck. Then Peter picked him up, ruined clothes and all. He carried him to the bath and stood him up. Sam leaned into him, then startled at his ladies undressing the both of them. Peter behaved like this was something both expected and not even worth noticing.

"You were watching us?!" Sam said, voice somewhere between strangled octopus and offended zebra. 

"Of course we watched our Lords. What if either of you had needed something?" Erica said. Like this was a normal thing that people do!

"We'd get it our _das't_ selves like adults!" Sam responded, voice embarrassingly high pitched with his mortification.

Peter rested his hand on the side of Sam's face. Sam looked up at him, ears burning with embarrassment. Peter's expression was so open, so soft, so full of wonder that Sam found it easy to forgive him. Sam was pretty sure that he'd forgive Peter anything as long as he looked at him like that.

"It's like getting to know you all over again. Only this time you're the shy one. It's…" Peter trailed off. Sam could imagine the rest. 'it's a chance I'd lost forever' or something else equally dramatic and maudlin.

"I'm here, Pete. I'm here," Sam said, unable to take away the year or more of pain and grief Peter had suffered through and unsure how to help now.

Peter smiled, it felt just a bit too sad for, well, everything. Especially when he said, "Yes. You are. You're safe, you're home."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Sam blurted. It felt suddenly like Peter and he were having two entirely different conversations. Peter's sadness faded away into that look of wonder that made Sam weak.

"It's more than I deserve, that's for damn sure," Peter said, then kissed him. It was another kiss like their first. Well, their first kiss that Sam could remember. Denny and Erica were done cleaning them and now were working out the tension still stubbornly clinging to Sam's back. It was something Sam couldn't not notice. But at the same time… well, it felt **good**. Peter didn't stop kissing Sam so much as move his kiss from his mouth to his neck. Sam held onto Peter, breathing hard. Peter pulled Sam tight against him as he migrated his kissing again, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin at Sam's collarbone. His hands slid from Sam's hips to hold onto his ass.

"How can you still be tense?" Peter mumbled into his skin. Sam shivered. His teasing response turned into a hiss as Peter began rubbing the tension away from his glutes.

"He is much more relaxed now than yesterday, Lord Parker," Denny offered.

"I know it's difficult to believe but it's true," Erica agreed.

"Oh I'm sure he is, girls."

"Ladies, Parker, God, show some respect," Sam interrupted.

"Of course Sam. Don't worry Love, we'll set you right as rain," Peter said, before picking him up and ordering "computer, massage table."

"I'm fine. C'mon Webs, stop teasing already," Sam protested. Still, he laid down on the warmed padded table with no other fuss. The oil was warm and vaguely sweet smelling. Sam might have missed the incredible kisses but getting all the knots and kinks and stress so thoroughly worked out of his entire backside by three beautiful people was an acceptable trade. Peter wasn't quiet like Denny and Erica. He murmured gentle affection and exclaimed over each new knot of tension he found. It was soothing in a completely different way than his long, spider-strong fingers working over Sam's muscles with the same sort of diligence he used in evaluating a battlefield.

Sam had no idea how long he was being fawned over, but it definitely was way longer than massages were probably supposed to last. Probably. Sam was so relaxed. More relaxed than he'd maybe ever been. Quite possibly more relaxed than any human had ever been in the history of ever. He wasn't asleep though. He made a grumpy sound when Peter picked him up and laid him back down, this time on his back instead of his belly. Not that he had enough fat on him right now to even have a belly. But he let those thoughts and memories float by. Here and now was immeasurably better than **any** time in his recent past. Sam had all unknowing, fallen into a light meditation. His thoughts continued to float through his mind, but he had no need to follow them or examine them. 

Peter's hands on his legs felt just as good as on his back. Denny and Erica worked on his arms and Sam almost slept, but not really. He was still in that restful state where his thoughts just appeared and left. Memories of pain and torture weren't the full sensory trauma that they had been. He focused more on what was currently happening to him, to the soothing touches being given to him that settled and calmed something in him he'd never noticed as being riled up and stressed.

_Huh, I can still stretch this far. Nice._ Was the only thought he had when Peter stretched his legs up and up and pressed his knees against his chest. Peter's kiss brought him back from the pleasant meditative state he'd been in. His ladies were massaging his hands now and as much as he wanted to reach for Peter he also wanted to let them finish. But when Peter pulled away from the kiss Sam lowered his legs and tried to reach for Peter anyways.

"Shhh my little lightbulb. I'm not going anywhere," Peter told him. Which was, yeah, kind of embarrassing how thirsty Sam was. So thirsty that he couldn't freaking wait for Peter to pull him down the table so Sam could wrap his legs around Peter's waist. Peter chuckled warmly and pulled Sam's legs away from his hips. Sam pouted up at him, hoping to get his way. Peter rested Sam's legs against his naked torso and leaned forward. "I'm not finished yet, calm down Sparky."

"I'm pretty sure massages aren't supposed to last this long," Sam 'complained'. Though he made no effort to get up or stop the attention. His ladies, _they're really mine… they want to be here, now, with me,_ were working on his chest and sides. Sam sighed, then Peter found an especially tight knot of tension in his hip and he hissed.

"Well lucky you, massages for Lord Nova last as long as you want them to," Peter responded breezily. He worked the heel of his palm into the stubborn spot and Sam grunted, the tension released and he was surprised at his _das't_ leg on that side trembling. "Damn, Love, what the hell did you even do to yourself?"

_Torture you_ _ignorant jerk,_ Sam kept his less than charitable thought to himself and glared at Peter with no real heat. He huffed and tried to stretch his leg. Peter kissed his calf and ran his hands over it, working some sort of spidery magic over his leg to soothe it back into looseness. Sam let his eyes close. Peter resumed his attention to Sam's hips. Thankfully it seemed that was the worst of it and Sam relaxed again into their combined attention.

He didn’t quite fall back into meditation but did almost fall asleep, up until Peter’s fingers teased at his sack. He sucked in a breath and stared at Peter. He felt like a deer stuck in the beam of headlights, frozen as something massive and unknown and terrifying prepared to run him over and leave him broken. Sure, they’d literally just fooled around, but that had been a desperate, half clothed release of too much and too strong emotions from the both of them. This now was definitely deliberate and Sam both wanted everything Peter was offering him and to get his helmet on and fly as far and fast away from all of this as possible. Peter kept teasing, petting from his balls to his hole and watching him watch him. Sam swallowed and deliberately spread open his legs. Right, they were a thing. For all that his memories held nothing to help him here it had been ridiculously clear from Peter’s knowing touches earlier that Sam’s body was as familiar to him as his own. Sam steadied his breathing and leaned his head back. _I can do this. I got this. I just gotta lay here and get fucked. Peter’s my partner. This is fine, this is normal._

Sam gasped at the unexpected, femine touches to his cock. _Dios this isn’t normal, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Peter shooed them away and Sam would have collapsed in relief if he wasn’t still laying on his back. _breathe Alexander, breathe, what the fuck, what the fuck, breathe dammit, in. hold. out._

“Love, we want to make you happy. Make you feel good. Because you deserve it. It’s totally okay if this is all too much to take in now,” Peter said, all soft and sweet and Sam’s heart lurched and _like hell I’m backing down now Parker!_

“It’s not bad. I’m just… this isn’t like, the littlest bit weird to you?” Sam said, still trying to find his footing in this life that had apparently been his. How had he ever gotten used to this? Sharing Peter was not something he especially wanted to do, and being the... well not really the cream filling he guessed, but being the focus of Peter’s attention on top of his ladies’ attentions was kind of scary. 

“I mean, the love of my life came back from the dead and has no memory of our incredibly important and very non traditional relationship so… lil’ bit, yeah,” Peter said, smiling nervously.

Sam stared at Peter, he was aware of Denny and Erica watching them both with something like worry. Definitely with concern. Eventually Sam nodded slowly and asked, “No one’s gonna flip out and yell at me for cheating on them?”

Peter snorted and gave Sam’s leg a squeeze. Denny and Erica looked relieved and no little bit puzzled but were quick to agree that they were only too happy to get him off. Except they made it sound much more exciting. Sam was honestly embarrassed at their eagerness. Peter smiled at him, almost shy. Sam smiled back, stomach fluttering so hard he was surprised he wasn’t spitting out butterflies.

“Okay. We’re good,” Sam declared.

“Good,” Peter said. Then immediately set to sucking Sam’s dick like it was the only thing in the universe he wanted to do.

"Jesus fuck," Sam gasped. He clung to Peter's head, unable to do much more and unwilling will do any less. "The mouth on you, Christ."

Peter wiggled his hips. He wiggled rather a lot for a grown man but Sam was so used to it he was sure he knew what a few of them meant. This was very clearly ' _I'm so awesome'_ with a lot of bit ' _happy happy happy!!!!!!'._

"Lord Parker is so good with his mouth," Erica said, sounding wistful.

"Yeah?" Sam said, thready and weak. it wasn't very fair leaving his ladies all untouched and downright neglected.

He groaned and said, voice husky and stronger, "you know who else is good with his mouth? Me."

Erica took that as an invitation to start kissing him. Denny set to sucking a hickey onto his chest. Peter's hands were keeping his hips pinned, each instinctive hip thrust from Sam was stopped by his spider strength. Peter was maybe trying to kill him with pleasure but like hell Sam was just going to lie there and take it. _Who the flark am I kidding I'll lay here and take this whenever Pete wants to give it_ Peter pulled off of his cock with a very unnecessarily theatrical pop and teased, "subtle, Love. Real subtle."

Sam barely had time to begin his offended 'rude' before Peter was taking him so deep he was burying his nose in his _flarking_ groin. Sam's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was once again reduced to a shaking wreck only able to hang onto his partner's head and enjoy his attention. Peter was merciless, working him over with determination and very obvious relish. Sam was so lost in the delicious heat of Peter’s incredible, amazing mouth that he had no idea which of his women were kissing his mouth and which were sucking on his throat. the only thoughts in his mind now were _yes god fuck mine jesus christ_ and when he came Peter sucked him dry. 

Sam was floating or flying but his helmet was back in the bedroom and Peter’s hands were on his hips and his lips on his thigh giving him sweet, tender kisses that didn’t fit at all with the ruthlessly intense blow job he’d just finished giving him. Sam was kissing on autopilot, floating so nicely in a haze of pleasure he still wasn’t entirely sure if this was Denny or Erica.

"You're so beautiful, Love," Peter said, stroking Sam's cheek sweetly. Sam turned away from the kiss _Denny, oh,_ into the caress and kissed his palm.

Denny and Erica murmured sweet agreement. And it didn't feel like meaningless platitudes or empty noise. It felt good. So good to hear their praise. And Peter, God. He felt almost drunk on Peter's attention.

“No, you,” Sam mumbled, possibly not very clearly. He’d seriously never felt so amazing. He stretched and sighed and managed to say clearly enough to be understood, “A guy could get used to this.”

For as relaxed as Sam felt he wasn’t actually sleepy. Getting toweled off and much less slippery wasn’t so bad. When Peter picked him up and tried to lay him in the bed Sam told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going to bed. He clung on stubbornly when Peter tried to lay him down and convince him to sleep anyways. Denny pointed out that Sam could rest just as well in the parlor, _flarking Parker of course it's the parlor,_ as well as in the bedroom. 

“Thank you Denny,” Sam said pointedly. Peter huffed but obliged them both by carrying him out to the den. It was Sam’s room and he’d call it a den if he wanted to, _das’t_ it. Erica followed them with two equally fine robes. The one she helped Sam into was different than the one from last night, much more blue and gold today. Peter’s robe was also clearly his own robe; it was red and gold. Sam was curious, but not enough to bring it up.

Peter picked up his rescued data pad and started off seated on the couch with Sam’s head resting in his lap. When he wasn’t typing or scrolling he was petting Sam’s head and playing with his hair. Sam had been thinking about cutting it short again, but Peter’s absent affections were starting to change his mind. Then something got Peter all riled up and Sam flailed himself stable as Peter started stomping around and huffing and generally being irritated about something he felt he shouldn’t need to fix.

_guess I know Peter better than I thought_ Sam reflected. Before he could get too comfortable though, Erica was helping him to sit up. Sam was much more inclined now to let his ladies guide him and accepted this easily. Denny brought him cool water and he drank it without complaint. 

“If only Lord Parker was so kind,” Erica said, clearly teasing though Sam wasn’t sure if it was at just Peter or at the both of them. Peter didn’t say anything, either not catching it in his dramatics or not caring. 

“I bet getting him to take care of himself is just a treat,” Sam said, amused. And no little bit sympathetic to her former plight. The long suffering look Erica gave him made him grin. 

“I have heard that being Lord Parker’s attendant is exhausting, and not usually in the fun ways,” Denny shared. 

“Sounds about right,” Sam said, watching Peter fondly.

“It was, but the fun ways definitely make up for the rest of the times,” Erica said, also watching Peter fondly. 

Sam wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about this. Jealous, definitely, Peter was his and he didn’t **want** to share him. But also it was difficult to dislike Erica when she’d been so good to him. Besides, Erica was, well definitely her own person. But also she’d chosen to be here, with him. She was **his** . No doubt Peter had cajoled and wheedled her into it but she seemed happy enough now that Sam was no longer some unknown man with (presumably) total power over her. Tentatively, Sam pulled her against his side. She _das’t_ near crawled into his lap at the wordless invitation. He felt himself blush and was immediately annoyed. Denny poured him a refill and pressed it into his hand, Sam huffed in feigned irritation and drank this too. He had just had all the built up lactic acid in his muscles from who knew how long released, water was definitely warranted. Denny seemed satisfied at this and joined Erica in staking out a claim on his lap. Sam kept blushing and for lack of a better thing to do wrapped his arms around them both and stubbornly watched Peter until his blush faded.

“You’re not what I was expecting, my Lord,” Denny admitted shyly, seemingly ashamed. 

“I’m not what I was expecting either, apparently,” Sam replied. He wasn’t entirely sure how to help her feel better. Was he supposed to kiss her? He settled on giving her an affectionate sort of squeeze. She buried her face against his chest, hiding behind her hair.

“You're much less insatiable than your reputation held. At least… well, perhaps you’ll grow into your lust,” Erica said, floundering on how to deal with the whole ‘assumed dead and now alive with amnesia for the past unspecified years’ thing.

Sam couldn’t help his laugh. He held them both close to try and make sure they didn’t think he was upset. “This is ridiculous. Okay. Sure. I used to be a totally thirsty horn dog that banged all the ladies-” 

“And enbys and dudes,” Peter said just loud enough to be heard clearly. But sort of absently, his nose still buried in his datapad. 

“Okay, yeah, sure. I guess if my amazing spider lover doesn’t care who I bang then sure,” Sam said, still not really believing that he’d apparently been the biggest hoe in the history of hoes.

Peter looked over at him with such naked love and fondness that Sam’s breath caught, “You deserve to be happy, Love.”

When Sam was able to actually say something he told them, “Sounds like I was an idiot chasing all those people that weren’t you.”

Denny and Erica cooed and fawned over this declaration. It felt like he and Peter were their own personal soap opera. It was _das’t_ embarrassing. Peter pretended he hadn’t heard him and stared very pointedly at his datapad. But his blush was all the way to his ears and sneaking down his throat. Sam reaffirmed to himself that he’d stop being such an idiot and give Peter all the affection he could. It was the least he could do for treating him so terribly in the past. Even if he couldn’t remember having done it.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: graphic smut in first scene; alcohol; graphic sex in third scene

Sam spent much of his first week back home resting and being pampered by his two lovely ladies. Peter came and went in his life at unusual hours and unexpected times. He was very sweet and very loving and gave Sam everything Sam asked for. Mostly it was kissing, which led to petting, which led to orgasms. Peter let him set the pace and Sam was grateful. 

Still, Sam was often left to his own devices. With the anxious but stern command to rest and recover. It was early on and during one of these long tedious times that Sam tried to read his old personal logs and history. Except that everything of any kind of interest was redacted **.**

**"** _Flarking_ redacted _bax_!" Sam barked out, glaring at his screen.

"My Lord Sam," Denny said, gently taking the data pad away from him. He kept glowering at it but allowed this.

"I'm sure this is incredibly frustrating my Lord. But this isn't helping you," Erica agreed, slotting herself easily against his side and holding him. 

Sam growled, huffed and wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed his throat and he felt his _das't_ cheeks flush. Denny smiled at him and made herself comfortable against his unoccupied side. Sam held them both close and vented his frustration in an unintentional torrent of words.

Neither of them interrupted him with words. They sent their hands over his body, pushing open his overshirt. It was distracting. He didn't shake them off, but doggedly continued his ranting. Right up until Denny slid her hand into his pants and Erica kissed his mouth.

"There you are, my Lord. Isn't this a much better way to let out all of that frustration?" Denny said, low and sexy.

Sam's reply was lost as Erica **did not stop** kissing his mouth. Sam's brain very quickly lost his thread of anger. Denny had him by the balls, literally playing with him now. He groaned and clung to them both. _This is happening, God, I'm kissing a beautiful woman while another plays with my balls. Jesus._ Sam helplessly clung to the thin fabric of their skirts. When he didn't push them away or try to stop them, they pushed his over shirt off of his shoulders and pulled the hem of his undershirt high up to expose his chest. Sam made a desperate, quiet noise and kissed Erica all the harder. Denny pushed him back until his legs hit one of the fainting couches, setes, whatever Jesus like he cared about accurate furniture titles right now. 

Erica stopped kissing him and he whined and tried to follow her, before Denny turned his head to her and kissed him instead. Erica laughed all warm and low and attractive and Sam’s cock twitched in response. 

“Your eagerness flatters me, my Lord,” Erica informed him, voice a throaty purr as her hands joined Denny’s in exploring his body. “Does this mean I get to go first? You’ve been so mean, showing off for us with Lord Peter but leaving us alone. Aren’t we worthy of your affection too, my Lord?”

Sam thought, _yes, god, yes yes, flark, you girls are so worthy fuck, fuck_ but all Sam managed to say was “yes, God.”

Erica pulled his erection free and Sam gasped. Her soft fingers teased and played along his length and Sam trembled. Denny moved her hands to his neck, thumbs resting against the softest, most vulnerable bit of skin just above his collar bone. Her fingernails scratched into the meat of his neck and Erica smeared his pre around the head of his dick. _this is happening this is happening jesus christ jesus god holy shit fuck_ two soft but very different hands wrapped around his shaft and stroked and squeezed, wandering both up and down then meeting back together. Sam bucked his hips and whimpered. Both of his girls giggled at him, but he didn’t really care. As long as they were willing to make him feel this good they could laugh at him until one of them passed out _me fuck i’m gonna pass out God Jesus I can’t believe this is happening_

When Denny pulled away from kissing him he whined again but waited. When his mouth remained unkissed he opened his eyes. Erica and Denny were watching him. Their eyes dark and hungry. He didn’t know what he wanted except everything they were offering, everything they wanted to give him. _mine, god they’re mine and they want me and fuck I think they’re wet god that’s so hot_ Sam felt embarrassingly clumsy as he groped at their skirts and pressed his fingers into the folds of their sex. He was giddy with the reality of his current situation. And he’d been right. They were wet, Erica dripping and accepting his exploring fingers without any resistance. Sam made a choked, wrecked sound and Erica arched into his hand, moaning out not his name but ‘my lord!’ Sam was not expecting how hot he found the usually annoying formality. His left hand wasn’t nearly as cooperative in exploring Denny. He could use it in any number of useful ways but that had been trained over years. _guess I gotta train a new skill_ he thought to himself, giddy. 

Still, Denny definitely was vocal in her appreciation of his efforts. And while not dripping like Erica she was still wet. The thought _they’re wet from kissing me, playing with my dick is getting them off_ was so blazingly hot Sam was surprised he didn’t ruin everything by coming right then and there. Thankfully, both for his dignity and his girls, he did not. But a few moments later Erica did. She screamed out ‘I’m coming my lord!’ and did just that, her walls clenching around Sam’s fingers and pussy soaking the couch. Denny pulled his hand away before he could do anything else with Erica. _that’s fair_ Sam absently thought before setting to showing Denny what he could **really** do. She wasn’t a screamer like Erica but was vocal in a different way, saying sweet nothings and gasping and sighing. But again his girl didn’t let him keep going after Denny came. Erica shoved him back and grabbed his cock. His head landed in Denny’s lap, everything smelled of pussy and sweat and _oh god oh god so tight so fucking tight fuck hold it back hold it back jesus christ you still gotta fuck Denny, Alexander don’t, don’t_

Sam wasn’t entirely sure **how** but he held it in, balls aching while Erica fucking rode his dick like a goddamn jockey. Denny pet at his face, watched Erica enjoying herself and spoke encouragement at her. Sam couldn’t look away from the sight of her, skin slick and breasts bouncing _she’s so beautiful_ flew through Sam’s mind. And apparently Denny agreed, leaning over him, pulling Erica to her. Perfect beautiful breasts were pressing against his face And, well, Sam couldn’t exactly **see** what they were doing now but their enjoyment of his body and each other’s finally broke his control. He tried to pull out but Erica and Denny didn’t give him a chance. And instead of dismounting and snuggling or giving Sam any sort of break, Denny pushed Erica back and straddled his chest. While Erica wasn’t **actively** fucking him, the shifting of her weight and clenching of her pussy was enough to have Sam flying, so lost in pleasure he couldn’t properly enjoy the gorgeous ass right there practically sitting on his face. The ‘torture’ didn’t last long, Denny pushed Erica further back, freeing his oversensitve dick. The loss of her pussy was made up by his come dripping out of her and onto him as she was moved. And the impossibly hot sounds of his girls kissing and moaning. Denny was grinding against his abs and Erica dripping onto his thighs. Sam wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing, much less making any sort of noises of appreciation. Sam trembled with aftershocks of pleasure and floated in a mind-blank haze. He felt his legs pushed open as they fell down onto their backs, heard the unmistakable sounds of one of them, or hell maybe both of them, getting fingered. _that’s hot_ floated by followed shortly by the thought _wanna see my girls_

Instead of pushing up onto his elbows as he’d **tried** to do, Sam managed to knock all of them onto the floor. His girls shrieked and then giggled. Sam groaned and tried to apologize but only managed an incomprehensible mash of syllables. Still, they weren’t at all upset. Giggles having turned into soft, fond laughter and gentle teasing. 

“Oh, my lord, you poor thing,” Denny cooed.

“You can’t even speak, you've been so fucked. My goodness, how awful for you,” Eric crooned.

_unfair_ Sam thought, but only managed a completely pathetic whine. They teased him in this way for a little while longer and Sam endured. _my girls are tormenting me and no one understands. Not fair._

Eventually, they helped him to his feet. He staggered into the smaller Erica, but she didn't even stumble as she adjusted them both to let him lean on her. _My girl is so strong and clever_ Sam thought to himself, a possessive sort of pride thrumming through him.

"Here we go, my Lord," Denny said, taking his other side. His knees trembled and occasionally gave out but his girls guided him into the shower. They sat him down and scrubbed him. He leaned against Erica and luxuriated in their attention. The water was exactly perfect and Sam fell asleep.

He halfway woke up when Peter climbed into bed to give him a goodnight kiss. He woke up even further when Peter pulled away instead of joining him.

"Stay," Sam rasped, throat rough with sleep. Still Peter hesitated. So Sam tried again, "Webs, Peter, stay with me."

"Of course my love." Peter said. Sam was too sleepy to hear the way Peter's voice caught with emotion. And even if he'd heard he wouldn't have understood the implication of Peter being used to sleeping away from him.

"Mmm, good," Sam mumbled, turning over and getting comfortable again. He was still partially awake when Peter climbed back into bed, properly this time. His warm strong arms pulled Sam to his chest and Sam slid the rest of the way to sleep.

* * *

Sam's life settled into a routine of sorts. Every other day he had brunch with Peter. It was getting less jarring with exposure but still felt strange. Especially with how Peter's attendants were handsy with the both of them. It made Sam acutely uncomfortable and no little bit confused as to how he'd settled into this life before. _Peter even said something about him being the shy one… how the hell did our relationship even get started?_ But Peter would redirect any questions about this, he even once ran away with the ridiculous excuse 'I left my sunglasses in the bathroom'. So even though it was beyond frustrating Sam stopped pressing him. No doubt it was another thing to do with memory loss and safe recovery. It was still infuriating missing those memories though.

Sam also started exploring his rooms. He wanted to explore the entire _Bird Eater_ but figured getting familiar with his living quarters was a good start. Much less awed staring and crisp salutes at least. All of the furniture was secured to the decking, just like his dressers. The only things unsecured were very soft things such as pillows, sheets, blankets and the like. Though those things did have storage areas. Basically, the ship seemed to have been designed by an extremely paranoid engineer. Sam heartily approved. Many of these things he had wished for when he invariably got into dire straights as Nova.

Sam kept his data pad in his hidden sleeve pocket. It was annoying but bearable. Much more annoying and much less bearable were the constant jewelry his attendants insisted he wear. Once he'd gotten over his crankiness at having anything other than his helmet on his head he really didn't mind the diadem so much. While the data pad was helpful and useful, Sam preferred to explore his quarters without the maps. His second full day had him thoroughly investigating his bedroom, much to Denny and Erica's bewilderment. Not just looking at what was in the drawers and closets and such, but the engineer in him needed to know what was under the deck plating and behind the walls and where the bulkheads and blast doors and enviro suits were. Well, where **everything** was. He actually enjoyed himself immensely. Denny encouraged him to break for morning tea, rather gently too. Now that she brought it to his attention Sam realized it had been a few hours since his early breakfast and would be a few more hours until brunch with Peter. Sam protested, but did finish putting everything back into shipshape. He was finished with this room anyways. 

As an American, Sam was expecting actual tea with tea time. But apparently 'tea time' was just 'snack time' for adults. There were lots of snacks. And since these were **his** quarters he asked to be led to some place with a table to sit near. There was very gratifyingly no protest, only sweetly spoken agreement. So Sam asked for tea to go with his tea. The word play made him think of Peter.

"What's Pete up to about now? Giving his keepers gray hairs trying to get him to eat?" Sam asked, looking over to Erica. She had, after all, been Peter's _his concubine God_ before being assigned to Sam.

Erica chuckled and nodded, she'd perched herself on the table, legs casually resting open. The thin fabric of her skirt hid nothing. Sam's eyes wandered, then he blushed and focused on eating.

"As much as I miss Lord Parker I must say that caring for you is a dream, my Lord Sam," Erica shared. Sam flustered and blushed harder and drank his water.

_Vodka shit_

Sam spat it out immediately. It wasn't a shot glass or even a short tumbler, but a fucking tall glass with ice. _Of course, why would the water glass be filled with water?_

"It's **booze** . It's not even **ship's noon**. Replace this with water. Don't give it to me again," Sam ordered, sharp for the first time since his return. Sam sighed and tried to get rid of the burning 'taste' of it with some fruit. It helped.

Denise returned with hot tea, clearly confused at the drastic change in atmosphere.

"No booze," Sam said, still short. 

"Yes, of course my Lord," Denny said, looking relieved. And that was that. Denny and Erica never gave him alcohol again.

* * *

Sam spent most of his free time like this, taking apart his quarters room by room when he wasn't with Peter or being cared for by his ladies. He usually had on his helmet for this, alien tech enhanced strength was an absolute gift when moving around the bigger sections of wall paneling and the bulkheads. His ladies kept him grounded to his body, reminding him to eat and literally dragging him to the bath and to bed. On those days he was much too distracted to give them proper attention but they had no problem taking him anyways. Sam would rather they not, but he always slept so much better after sex with them that he didn’t ever bring it up.

Denny and Erica gave him thoroughly relaxing massages daily, during which Sam invariably meditated. Worldmind encouraged him to use those times to think on his traumas, if he felt up to it. Apparently it could help some people with PTSD begin to heal. It wasn't hurting Sam at least, so he made an effort to try. Every massage ended with a handjob from his ladies. But it wasn't really anything like when they would pounce on him and take him until they were satisfied. Which they did at least twice a week.

They were so enthusiastic that his resolve to not initiate anything with them was beginning to waver. Peter made love to him in front of them like it wasn't any kind of deal at all. Which made Sam wonder if he was just being ridiculous. But their eager eyes on him while he and Peter made love were something Sam couldn't **not** notice. He just had no idea what to do about it. So he did nothing and let Peter lead. 

After a little over a week being back Denny and Erica grew bolder than just watching Peter and him. Like that first time with Peter, they joined in with heated kisses and exploring hands. It was thrilling and scary but overall fun. Especially with Peter's heated encouragement and steady attention. After all, if his lover wanted it then this was okay.

"That's it ladies, make him feel good. Show him how much we love him," Peter said, low and smooth like Sam had never imagined before and couldn't get enough of now.

_"Flark_ yeah, show me," Sam echoed, moaning.

Show him they did. Sam came with Peter filling him up and Denny's mouth on his cock and Erica kissing him senseless. Peter's thrusting into him made him shiver with pleasure with each thrust. Eventually, Sam recovered enough to kiss Denny just to taste himself on her tongue. It was hot as hell. Sam had never really imagined getting to actually do anything like this. Just the occasional illicit fantasy. He was in the moment, enjoying everything immensely. 

When they were finished they lay together in a sweaty well fucked tangle. Peter lay curled around Sam, his head resting against his chest. As the afterglow faded Sam was incredibly aware of just how sordid the entire experience had been. It had been fun, yes. It had been sexy, yes. But for all of that he'd rather have had only Peter. He didn't want to divide his attention between so many people. Especially when one of them was his lover!

Sam dozed despite his train of thoughts. He was barely aware of Peter talking quietly with his girls. Complaining about the lack of more body servants.

"Spoiled," Sam informed him lazily. 

"Damn right I'm spoiled. And you should be too, Love!" Peter declared. He sat up and made a gesture he thought was grand but was really just ridiculously dramatic.

"Already am," Sam said, grinning like a fool. Peter chuckled and Sam was both worried and aroused.

"Sure. This is spoiled," Peter said. He sounded sarcastic and like he thought Sam was being a shit. Sam looked at him in confusion. This **was** being spoiled. He had two beautiful servants to care for his every want and need, stupidly luxurious clothes, living area, the works. Not to mention Peter was so in love with him it was honestly kind of terrifying. In the best of ways of course. But still.

"I don't need a hundred servants or something," Sam said, nose scrunching up at the thought. That was just ridiculousness.

His girls were staying out of the conversation. And in fact were now getting up and leaving them. Sam frowned and watched them. 

"Really? You can have a hundred, you know. If you want," Peter said. He stared at Peter like he'd grown extra arms again.

"No. **No** I do not want one hundred servants! What! What the _flark_ would I even do with them all?!" Sam said, appalled.

Erica returned with warmed, sinfully soft hand towels and a dish of warm water to clean them off with.

"Be spoiled by them?" Peter said. He even tilted his head and had the audacity to look completely confused!

Erica cleaned Sam first and Sam let her, moving however she needed him to. Sam sputtered and tried to gather his thoughts into something coherent.

"You can't mean spoil like my ladies spoil me. Not one hundred! How the hell would I even get anything done! I wouldn't even be able to sleep!" Sam managed to get out.

"Okay. So not a hundred," Peter said. He was looking at Sam now like he was an especially tricky training exercise that needed solving and also wasn't cooperating. Erica moved Sam onto his stomach so she could clean his backside. Sam laid his head on his crossed arms and glowered at Peter. _This is ridiculous._ "Okay okay, calm down Starshine. I'm not gonna surprise you with a hundred servants. Promise!"

"I don't believe you and I don't believe that this conversation is even happening. No more servants. I don't want them," Sam declared. He wished that Erica maybe wasn't so thorough. Sam liked feeling Peter's come still inside of him as he went about the rest of his day.

"What, you're just gonna work your ladies to the bone?" Peter paused whatever he was trying to say just to declare, "heh. Bone."

"... Okay. Yeah. No. That's not cool," Sam agreed. He was embarrassed and ashamed. Obviously his ladies would need breaks away from him. Even vacations of course. The thought of getting to know more people as intimately as he knew his ladies was unpleasant to say the least. "But if my ladies are gonna work with them then they get to have some kind of say in who they work with."

"You're ridiculous," Peter announced. Then heaved a very dramatic sigh and added, "fine. A dozen personal care personnel. All approved by your ladies."

"A dozen?! No way! Two! Two new servants!" Sam insisted. Denny returned then with a tray of refreshments and robes for the both of them. 

Erica gave Sam's backside a little pat and Sam sat up. Denny helped him into his robe, the blue and gold settled him without him even realizing.

"Fine," Peter said, drawing it out obnoxiously long.

"Fine," Sam agreed. He turned to the refreshments and drank some sweet tea.

Peter crouched in his spidery way across from Sam and drank some water. He was in one of his too fancy robes, mostly red. Sam let his eyes wander, enjoying the sight of his lover's body. He idly wondered what even the purpose of the robes were, they sure as hell didn't hide anything.

Denny and Erica both kissed his cheek and took their leave. Sam felt guilty now, he'd been clingy and greedy with them. Basically demanding their entire attention since he'd gotten back. Peter watched them leave and Sam returned to admiring Peter.

"You do like them?" Peter asked quietly. Sam looked at him, bewildered.

"Yes? We just had sex with them. Why the hell would you even need to ask?" Sam said. Just when he thought he knew what to expect, Peter went and pulled shit like this.

"Yeah, no. I know that," Peter said dismissively. Like having had sex with them was irrelevant to Sam liking them. "I mean, they treat you right? Only do things you really want? I know you kinda go with the flow Starshine. It's cool to tell them to chill out and back off."

Sam stared at Peter. He had no idea how to process everything that he just said. Well no, he knew what to do about **that** . It was the **implications** that unsettled him and made him think. Peter was looking at him now, concerned and a little bit sad.

"They treat me right," Sam managed to say. He thought back on that first night. It had been the only time he'd actually told them no. But they'd listened. Sam uneasily remembered the tall glass of vodka he'd been served before telling them off over it. He added, "they listen to me."

"Good," Peter said, looking relieved. "I know Erica can be a bit much but Denny usually keeps her in line."

"Uhh… Yeah," Sam said. That had not been his experience with them. At all. They were kind and attentive and reminded him to take care of himself and usually didn't do more than snuggle and vocally appreciate him. And when they **did** pounce on him it was always Denny that initiated things. And, well, Peter wasn’t wrong that Sam tended to go along with what he wanted. But he didn’t **think** he did that with his ladies. 

“How did we get together. The first time?” Sam asked, this was the first time he and Peter had been truly alone since he got back. Peter flushed and looked away. It was adorable and also ridiculous. 

“We just had sex with my ladies and your blushing over this? _Dios_ Webs, what the hell did we do?” Sam said. Had he already been a useless drunk? Surely not. No way would Peter have put up with Sam being some kind of drunken skank if he hadn’t already had some kind of affection and admiration for him. Sam ached at how he’d hurt Peter, even if he couldn’t remember doing it. 

Peter sputtered and looked so precious Sam easily understood how he’d fallen for him before. Hell, here he was falling for him all over again. 

“Please tell me I didn’t seduce you at some wild orgy. I might actually die,” Sam said, going for teasing but also no little bit worried it was true. Peter choked on nothing then laughed. Sam acted offended but secretly was reassured. At least it hadn’t been **that.**

“No. No you did not. I can one hundred percent say that you did **not** seduce me at one of your orgies,” Peter said, eyes bright with laughter now. 

“ **My** orgies?! I- No way!” Sam balked, and Peter laughed. Sam was not reassured that Peter was joking. “You’re kidding me. There’s no way I had _flarking_ orgies! Plural!”

Peter laughed even harder. Sam couldn’t believe how embarrassed he was over something that maybe hadn’t happened but maybe it had. Maybe he’d been a total slut before and the thought disgusted and appalled him. He couldn’t begin to fathom what had happened to him to make him decide that was at all alright and normal and chill. Then Peter stopped laughing and looked at him with such love Sam immediately forgave him for being such a teasing bastard.

“You’re such a jerk,” Sam grumbled, flushing and glaring at the refreshments tray like it had personally offended him. 

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk,” Peter said, sappy and sweet. Sam’s heart soared and his stomach fluttered. 

“Yeah, you are,” Sam agreed, grinning at Peter like an idiot. He really was. Sam had no idea what he’d done to deserve Peter’s undying love but he knew for sure he’d do everything he could to prove to Peter he was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also i have not forgotten about lord watson she will be a main character in future chapters. i'm quickly catching up to what i've already got written though)


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of past torture; mentions of past character death; non graphic description of past character deaths; 
> 
> WARNINGS: quite graphic smut scene in second scene, I tried to keep it from getting explicit, just graphic but, not sure how successful I was with that
> 
> Note: My brain kept getting confused keeping track of Peter's unnamed servants so I just named them, no introduction, sorry if it's abrupt.

Sam was just getting settled into this new again routine when it was all upended. Not in any bad, terrible way, thankfully. But suddenly, one day about two weeks after his return, Erica and Denny were joined by four more beautiful people. Sam remembered Peter’s promise to spoil him and internally sighed. Four was better than a dozen at least. They joined him at today's morning tea time and were apparently more servant servants than body servants. At least, Denny and Erica lounged comfortably all over Sam while these new people brought in food and drink. Sam reached for a pink and peach colored slush and choked, it was nearly swimming in rum.

The new servants immediately fussed and worried over the **quality** of the _das't_ drink. Erica was concerned too but at least was asking him what was wrong instead of assuming… ugh. Whatever he'd been here in the past, he wasn't going to fall off the wagon now. Not after surviving Hell and finally getting back to his home.

Denny took the drink and her eyes widened as she tasted it. The look she gave the servant with the drinks could have stopped The Juggernaut. 

"My Lord Nova does not drink alcohol," was all Denny said, but Erica was getting up now. With a swift gesture two of these new servants were replacing his ladies. Erica led the protesting newbie away and Denny took the tray.

"I'll be back with proper refreshments my Lord," Denny said, she didn't apologize but instead still looked furious. Sam watched them leave, confused at the apparent severity of this mistake. Erica and Denny hadn't known he was sober and he kept them on. If either of his ladies had stayed behind now he would have asked them about this. But he still didn't know enough about how all of this 'personal care personnel' stuff was supposed to work to feel comfortable asking these new servants what was going on.

Denny returned quickly with non-alcoholic drinks. She switched places with the servant on Sam's right side and now this servant was the drink bearer. 

"Thank you, Denny," Sam said, doing his best to sound genuine. He knew he had a tendency to sound sarcastic even when he wasn't actually trying. It seemed to be effective, almost too effective if the superior look she gave to the newbie attendants was anything to go by. _Hmmm, am I going to have to give attention to everyone equally? This might get complicated._

Denny continued to take charge of these new servants, directing them without words what to serve and offer and even how to snuggle him. Sam obliged by accepting what they offered him. They had seemed as relaxed as Peter's own servants before the drink mix up. Now though they were clearly subdued and skittish.

_As if being here for two weeks more actually gives her that much more rank_ Sam thought, amused that she was clearly affronted at their lack of… professionalism? They hadn't even been the ones to mess anything up. It was cute and Sam was probably being condescending even acknowledging it but, hell, it's not like he called her out on it or even told anyone his thoughts. 

Thankfully, the rest of tea time was easier to bear. The rest of his day went as his days had been going since his return. The only key differences were Denny and Erica having breaks completely away from Sam. Though they never left at the same time. 

Having fresh sets of eyes on him as he went through his yoga and then fighting forms was disconcerting. The very fact that it was unsettling him instead of pushing him to show off was itself upsetting. He knew he wasn't the man he'd once been. Not after what Titus had put him through. But confronting it so head on sucked.

He was standoffish and snippy and only getting worse as the day went on. Peter showed up that evening and Sam was both snapping at Peter and physically clingy. After barely fifteen minutes of this, Peter shooed away the attendants.

"Love, what's wrong?" Peter asked. He looked so worried that Sam started crying. 

Just straight up bawling. He couldn't manage to get more than one or two simple words out. He hated it. So he clung to Peter and cried until he had nothing left.

Peter held him close; waiting with seemingly endless patience for Sam to be finished. When Sam was finally up to talking he wasn't even sure what to say.

"I don't know," Sam said, quietly.

"Don't know what, Love?" Peter asked.

"What's wrong. I don't know," Sam clarified. He tried to wipe the mess he'd made from crying off of Peter's shoulder. Peter just pulled off his top and cape and tossed them aside. Sam made himself more comfortable in Peter's lap and laid his head on his chest. After a while Sam said, "I miss Carrie."

"Oh," Peter said quietly and evenly. Sam clung to him.

"It's stupid," Sam insisted. He knew it was stupid! "She's been dead for years, _das't_ it!"

"Oh, Sam," Peter said, heartbroken.

"I don't even have our rings anymore! That bastard melted them down!" Sam raged. It hurt. It had been one of the first things Titus had tortured him with. Stripping him not just of his helmet, but taking and destroying everything that tied Sam to Before.

"I'm so sorry Sam," Peter said, sounding truly grieved.

“He took them! Took them and melted them and-!” Sam’s voice caught. It had been horrific. But none of the servants were here. Peter may not have seen worse but Sam knew if there was anyone he could actually talk to about this then it was Peter. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Sam,” Peter said softly. Sam shook his head ‘no’. If he didn’t get it out now he’d never get it out.

“He killed…” Sam started. Then stopped. Peter waited, holding him close. Sam finished, “he poured it over his eyes.” 

Peter made a sound low in the back of his throat. Then shuddered and breathed out a heavy breath. He said, “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. He stayed in Peter’s lap for a long time. 

Peter stayed the night. But in the morning he was gone.

* * *

A few days later, during Sam’s early breakfast, he somehow accidentally seduced one of his newest servants, Li Chen. They had a fine dick and strong chest. Not that Sam had been ogling per se. It was just that these 'uniforms' of his 'personal care personnel' were so silky and gauzy and transparent they might as well be made of light waves. Sam had no idea what he’d done to signal them other than admire their body. Sam had just looked over at them, caught his eyes wandering, blushed, and looked back to the food and drinks spread.

But they'd set the tray onto a table and draped themselves over his shoulders and purred all low and full of excitement, "my Lord Nova honors me."

Sam squeaked and froze, looking to Denny then Erica for help, guidance, anything. They both smiled at him in an encouraging sort of way. Which really was not what Sam had been hoping for but should have honestly expected.

"Hey Li Chen," Sam began with no idea where he was going, "What’s your pronouns? I'm Sam, he\him."

_Wow smooth. They’ve been working for me for like two days. I already know their pronouns. At least I didn’t ask their name, Dios._ Everyone giggled and Li Chen laughed, delighted and surprised and warm.

"Of course my Lord Alexander, my pronouns are they\them. How would you like me to honor you, Lord?" Li Chen replied. Sam stared blankly ahead, blushing from the tips of his ears and down his neck.

"You know, uh, wh-whatevs," Sam said, voice a bit creaky and high. _Nailed it._

Which led Sam into some seriously heated make outs with not just Li Chen, but, well, **everyone.** As if Li Chen kissing his mouth had been some nonverbal command, all at once too many hands and too many mouths were taking liberties with his body. Sam accepted this, mostly because his brain shorted out and didn't reboot. At least until someone pulled his erection free and started stroking him.

"Ah! W-wait!" Sam said, accidentally shouting it. The five faces gazing at him with nervous attention made Sam change his intended 'that's enough' to, "still gotta see Pete, today."

"Of course my Lord. Lord Parker is truly insatiable, you should be at your fullest for your brunch," Erica nodded and gave the head of his erection a regretful kiss. He made a pathetic little noise and processed, _Insatiable. Peter._ Then the jumbled up thoughts and images of Peter giving him another impossibly hot blowjob, and Peter taking him so sweetly, only this time Peter wasn't satisfied with only that. He was all excited and mixed up and had no idea what to do with this information.

All throughout brunch Sam was an excited mess. He watched Peter's servants with new eyes and what had before been uncomfortable was now exciting. Their touches to Sam were still something he'd rather not happen, but watching them with Peter was doing things to Sam he hadn't noticed before. Or maybe he didn't want to notice.

Peter pulled Sam into his lap today, as he did after every brunch together. Sam let his own hands wander and tease Peter. Usually, if Sam accepted this public affection and, well, making out really, he'd go no further. But Sam was feeling bold with adrenaline and very much turned on from Peter. His own earlier, unfinished, fooling around was definitely keeping him eager. Erica's promise of Peter being insatiable had him eager to see just what she meant. So today while Peter kissed him and caressed him, Sam petted and teased at the outline of Peter's very eager member through his skin tight suit.

"Sam?" Peter gasped, sounding all soft and hopeful and excited. Sam's heart beat faster. Peter loved him. He loved Peter. Just because all of this was new again to Sam didn't somehow invalidate their mutual love for each other.

"Yeah. Yeah, um, it's cool. If, I mean, you're cool with…" Sam trailed off, blushing and gesturing at their audience.

"I am so cool with it," Peter said, voice going all low and sexy. Sam shivered and resumed kissing Peter. Peter's servants began undressing them both with eager, wandering hands. Sam let them, adrenaline making everything exciting.

Peter kissed Sam passionately, biting and marking his throat, his shoulders, his chest. That was new. He’d always been so gentle with just Sam. And even the time with Sam and Denny and Erica he’d been soft and sweet. Sam definitely wasn’t complaining. Peter’s fierceness now was blazingly hot. Peter’s servants, though Sam guessed they must be concubines after all, but they were very eager to join in. They pulled Sam and Peter apart to kiss and touch and pet the both of them what felt like everywhere. Sam whined at the loss of his lover. Sure, this felt good, but he wanted Peter. 

“Everything okay, Starshine?” Peter asked, voice all rough and sexy. 

“Want you, Webs,” Sam said, looking over at him. The sight of so many people taking liberties with Peter’s body was simultaneously infuriating and arousing. Peter’s grin was definitely hot, and the way he seemed to light up at this declaration made Sam’s heart lurch. 

Peter returned to Sam and it was almost perfect. Peter’s concubines were still plenty handsy and mouthy with the both of them, but with Peter’s attention back Sam didn’t mind so much. Peter pulled Sam onto his lap and started stroking him. He nipped and kissed and licked Sam in all the best of ways and Sam knew he’d be coming too soon if Peter kept it up. Though he also knew Peter would just tell him to come if he said as much. 

“Wanna blow you, Pete,” Sam said instead. The encouraging sounds and words from the concubines were something he really could do without but _das’t_ it, he seriously wanted Peter right the _flark_ now. He shook off the hands pushing him down to Peter’s erection and took a few moments to admire his lover’s gorgeous body. He looked up and was gratified to see Peter’s attention was entirely on him. 

Sam didn’t look away and neither did Peter. He relished every reaction and response from his lover. When one, no, two someones decided Sam’s own erection was neglected he didn’t let it stop him. When Peter came, instead of letting Sam swallow it he pulled Sam off. Sam was unceremoniously pulled aside and kissed by at least three different people. When Sam finally came up for air he saw Peter had made a _das’t_ mess of some incredibly eager concubines. Sure, it was hot. But Sam definitely wasn’t sulking over having his plans pulled out of his mouth, so to speak.

Sam hated sharing Peter, especially with so _das’t_ many others. Sam came quickly after Peter left him to the affections and attentions of his concubines. But eventually Peter seemed to be finished with his harem and returned his focus entirely to Sam. Sam had been a bit too busy getting his partners off to keep track of how many times Peter came. He knew, vaguely, that Peter’s superhuman spider powers gave him incredible endurance. But he hadn’t especially figured on how that might affect him in these sorts of ways. 

Peter’s kisses and attentions to Sam now were languid and easy. Softer than before but still unquestionably possessive. It settled Sam. Peter was his. Sam motioned for the lube and eager, slick hands teased at his hole. 

“Ah, fuck. Not me,” Sam said with a cranky little huff. There was much excitement over this declaration and also very vocal begging that was frankly embarrassing. Sam snapped, “Not any of you, either!”

“Oh,” Peter said, looking at him with wide eyes. This also seemed to surprise literally everyone. Sam growled and glowered at them. He didn’t want them here anyways. He didn’t need their opinions on what he and his lover did together. 

The wondering, hopeful, eager way Peter was looking at him was so _flarking_ hot Sam decided he didn’t care. It was also kind of pitiful and sad but Sam shoved the self recriminations aside. This definitely wasn’t the time nor place for that. He’d been letting Peter lead and been perfectly content bottoming before now. But seeing Peter with so many other people that weren’t him had him in a state. A state of jealous frustration that he frankly couldn’t stand. Peter was his! 

The lube was warmed and Sam fingered Peter open as gently and lovingly as he could. Despite his heart nearly frothing from the need to shove Peter down and take him and claim him Sam did not. He couldn’t remember any of the other times that he’d topped and he wasn’t going to ruin this time with rushing. Peter was a panting, gorgeous wreck by the time he was ready. 

“How many more you got in you, Webs,” Sam asked, eyes only for Peter. Peter looked up at him like he’d just thrown out a challenge. Sam couldn’t help his smirk at that. 

“More than you,” Peter said, no doubt thinking he sounded all smug and superior. Really though, Sam thought he sounded desperate and needy. Sam changed his motions from teasing stretching to hard and fast fingering; targeting Peter’s prostate with merciless precision. Peter arched his back and moaned and cursed and quickly came. 

“Guess we’ll see,” Sam said, smug and only a little bit gloating. 

As if him sinking into Peter had broken some spell, Peter’s concubines returned to lavishing them with attention. Sam took Peter slowly, until he’d regained his erection. Then he showed him exactly how good he could have it. Any one trying to touch Peter's member very quickly learned that was definitely not allowed. Sam snarled low and possessive and if they persisted he slapped the offending hand away. 

Sam was much too busy to pay any attention to anything happening that wasn’t Peter. So he didn’t notice the confused, downright bewildered looks many of the concubines were giving him. He definitely wasn’t paying any attention enough to notice their whispered chatter. 

“What happened to Lord Alexander?” Kara asked, barely audible above the sounds of Sam and Peter’s love making. It was clear that she had known him from Before.

“Kara hush! Do you want to get demoted?” whispered Rebah anxiously. She had been in training at the time of Sam's sudden absence and was unfamiliar with his previous ways.

“Please Rebah, you’re being paranoid,” Kara responded with blithely.

“Kara, shut up. Didn’t you hear what happened to Bessy?” Fatima whispered, concerned.

“Bessy’s back? Oh wow I thought all of Lord Alexander’s old—” Adrien chimed in. He too was from Before.

“They were, I was one of Lord Parker’s favorites then. He was really upset, could barely run the empire. Lord Watson sent them all away,” Vati responded. She wasn't frowning, that wouldn't be professional for a concubine 'watching' her charge having sex. But she was definitely concerned over the changes in Lord Alexander's behavior. 

“I was on break the other day the same time as Erica, whatever happened with Bessy really freaked her out,” added Amir. 

“Yeah, I was in the kitchens the other day when she brought Bessy back early from Lord Alexander's morning tea. Bessy was all full of herself, trying to pull the 'I've done this longer' card. But then! Then, oh my gosh you won’t believe. Erica went off. Like, went. Off. She was saying something about classified and knowing better. I dunno, I was trying to stay out of it. I love Lord Alexander but,” Bahari shrugged, “anyways, she was really really mad.” 

“Oh damn, no way! Erica’s so chill!” Kara whispered, looking stunned. There were quiet murmurs of agreement. It took a lot to ruffle Erica's feathers. She'd gotten along well with most of her fellows.

“Yeah, I wasn’t there when whatever happened happened, but she’s really shook now,” Amir quietly added.

They stopped gossiping long enough to vocally admire their Lords. They well knew Peter absolutely enjoyed being on display, and his happiness with his miraculously returned spouse was plain to see. Lord Alexander didn't seem to pay their appreciation any mind, which was really quite unusual. But they all now knew that whatever had happened while he'd been gone had affected his memory. Bringing up anything from Before was absolutely _kapu_.

Quietly Taishi gathered the gossips attention to him.

“I, um, I heard about Bessy. My sister is in charge of, uh, well. Anyways, I heard that she’s accused of endangering the empire and…” Taishi whispered, then looked around anxiously said, even quieter, “treason.”

The concubines near enough to overhear the conversation stared at Taishi in shock.

“Lord Alexander is so fine to watch,” Kara said much louder and throatier. 

There was a chorus of fervent agreement and the whispered conversation was dropped. 

Both Sam and Peter remained ignorant to the gossip. Both much too lost in each other.

When Sam came, Peter's concubines brought him refreshment. He ignored them. Sam remained in Peter, snuggling against his chest and relishing the afterglow. Peter held him close and nuzzled against his head. Sam was oblivious to Peter's expression of anguish. And if he'd seen he definitely wouldn't have understood. Peter breathed in deeply the scent of Sam. His expression softened into one of wonder and cherishment. Eventually, Peter beckoned Amir over and gestured to them both.

Amir set to cleaning them. He started with Lord Alexander, outwardly calm but inwardly anxious over his temper. Intentionally or not, Sam had been vicious in keeping everyone away from Peter while topping. Sam sighed and arched into Amir's attentions. It was almost endearing. Would have been cute if not for Sam's earlier actions. As it was it just made Amir all the more grateful he was still assigned to Lord Parker. Rebah took up cleaning Peter. Sam not only allowed this, he moved himself lazily out of the way. He was behaving like a satiated wolf. Amir and Rebah shared a look, _poor Erica,_ the look meant. At least their Lord Peter was predictable in his reactions.

Once they were both clean, Sam resumed his snuggling. He was exhausted. He didn't think he ought to be quite so wiped, even after so much physical activity. Then again, Worldmind would only get him in fighting trim if he actually was going to fight something. Hadn't he been back long enough to be better yet? Sam didn't dwell on his frustration. He was feeling much too good now. And besides, Peter was being uncharacteristically quiet. He wasn't snoring so Sam knew he wasn't sleeping.

"Everything alright, Lover?" Sam asked. Peter responded with a slightly too tight hug. 

"You're home," Peter said, voice thick with emotions. Then he leapt up and spun them around. Sam yelped then laughed. Everything was fine.

Peter cleared off the nearest table, ruining everything on it in the process. Sam huffed and shook his head.

"Your servants are going to have to clean that up you know," Sam chided as Peter laid him down on it.

"They get paid plenty. They'll survive," Peter said, rolling his eyes. Sam's retort was lost as Peter slid his lubed fingers inside of him.

Peter filled Sam up and stretched him out and wore him down to a pitiful wordless sweaty drained wreck. It took Sam an absurdly long time to recover. It wasn't helped at all by Peter fucking his harem in what was **clearly** a show just for Sam. Plus, every time Sam managed to come down and start to be capable of speech, Peter again filled Sam so full and drained his balls so dry Sam just… stayed all floaty and good and completely lost track of everything that wasn't Peter. Whatever Peter asked or wanted of him he did without even the tiniest thought of protest. _Anything, anything for my love, anything for you._

Eventually, Peter relented. Sam was too lost in the floaty haze of pleasure and sweet knowledge of Peter's happiness with him to be able to say if Peter was finally **satisfied**. But he carried Sam back to Sam's quarters and gave him loving kisses and sweet praise. He ordered Sam to accept whatever his servants needed to do to help him recover, then left. Sam reached after him, aching at the loss. His own servants cleaned him up and murmured sweet words and kind promises. But it wasn't Peter. And Sam, paradoxically, felt emptier and lonelier than ever. 

Later that day, when he'd recovered from Peter's ruthlessly intense attentions, Sam thought. 

Sam just couldn't fathom **why** he'd ever found this sort of hedonism allowable. At least to such a **scale** . He didn't really know what Peter's actual title was but he was clearly in charge of the space fleet. Sam definitely understood why maybe a few servants that found sex with the boss fun might be really nice to have around. He couldn't really think of his ladies, Denny and Erica, as **concubines**. But he definitely wanted them to stay now that he had them.

And the other attendants he only indulged in (what Sam saw in retrospect as) tame kisses and heavy petting. To Sam, they were his attendants and nothing more. Denny and Erica though… they were something else altogether. Something wonderful. It was nice how they were nearly always there. Lovely how they accepted him and helped him even at his lowest lows. Hot as hell how eager they were for his dick. But expanding that kind of intimacy to his other servants? Especially on the scale that Peter expected to be normal to him? Sam couldn't wrap his mind around it.

  
Sam knew Peter had at least thirty different concubines. That he had seen at brunch anyways. It was wrong. Wrong for loving, nerdy, sweet Peter and wrong for Sam too. But apparently it **wasn't** wrong. It was **normal** . And the normality of sharing his **lover** with so many other people grated on Sam's heart. But he also was beginning to understand how Peter could stand to be around his own lost and confused self. Even understand that Peter really had meant what he'd said about leaving Sam alone if that had been what Sam needed. Because despite how it pained Sam to share, seeing Peter happy made it bearable.

Sam thought he could learn to live like this. If only Peter would stay the night with him. Waking up without him was painful. And with Peter he didn't even need to have sex with him to keep the nightmares at bay. Did Peter still have nightmares? Sam wasn't sure. It'd been a long, long time since they had bunked together as teenagers. But maybe… Maybe he did. Maybe Peter also used sex to keep away nightmares?...

Sam sighed to himself.

"Can I assist you, my Lord?" Natyia asked. Sam looked over to her. Were she and Li Chen and Oona his concubines? Were his ladies? The thought didn't excite him. It unsettled him. Erica had been Peter's favorite. He knew that she'd been his concubine. And now he knew intimately what that entailed. Still, Natyia was waiting on his response.

"Not blazing likely," Sam muttered, then louder said, "but if you can distract me from my brain that'd be great," Sam added with a hopefully convincing smile, "No sex though, I'm good on that for like a week."

Sam did successfully forget about his current problems. Natyia kept him busy playing board games, of all things. It was nice. The nightmares that night were not. At least he only woke up twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kapu is hawaiian for forbidden. I think I'm using it correctly? I believe it covers more than just a place that is forbidden. but if I'm wrong please let me know and if possible what to use instead.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: panic attack/dissociative episode kinda deal described in the first scene

Two weeks later and Sam was going stir crazy. He'd taken apart everything in his quarters and his access to information was still frustratingly limited. Sam was sure that he had at one time had his own very important job here. But he still couldn't remember anything from his past. 

_ I made these files myself! _ Sam thought for what felt like the thousandth time.  _ I should just hack into the das't things! Like Peter's security could ever keep me out! _

But he never did. He didn't need Worldmind to remind him human brains were fragile meat computers held together by protein and hope. Still, he was restless and done with resting. If it hadn't been for Peter exhausting him nearly every other day he would have done something sooner.

As it had been, Sam was pretty much forced to rest just to recover from Peter's insatiable lust. Brunches with Peter were more accurately orgies now. Peter was always so eager to show off for him. It was both hot and frustrating. Sam was gratified that at least whenever he topped the concubines were content with only watching and speaking. 

But one day Peter had an official function that just couldn't be rescheduled. He was going to be completely unavailable. Sam had thought he'd be fine with it. It wasn't a big deal, after all. Peter had a job to do, a very important one. Not that Sam even knew what it was.

Sam was not expecting to be so  _ das't _ irritable today. Sam was cranky and snippy. He didn't want sex with his servants, not even his ladies. He wanted something to  **do.** So he put on his helmet. 

_ Sam _ Worldmind greeted him.

_ If you tell me to stay here and rest I will fly into the nearest star,  _ Sam informed his helmet's AI. Worldmind responded with the mental equivalent of a sigh.

_ you know very well that is entirely survivable if not terribly pleasant _

Sam didn't bother responding. They both knew he was just being dramatic.  _ I need to go for a fly. _

_ i am not sure that is a wise course of action Sam _

Sam pushed his restless frustration Worldmind's way. It didn't immediately respond. Sam's servants were watching him float with a kind of awe that used to make him feel powerful but now just made him feel anxious.

"I'm going out," Sam declared.

"My Lord, do you not want one of us to accompany you?" Denny asked.

"I don't need a babysitter," Sam snapped. He left immediately after.

_ being here is doing your mind great help _

Sam ignored it's attempt at engaging him in a conversation he didn't want to have. He knew it was right. He didn't care. He wanted to be better right now.

Sam left the corridors marked in his colors. He was thinking of leaving the ship for a fly regardless of Worldmind's advice when he ran across some of the crew. Thankfully no one dropped anything this time. But they did freeze in shock. Sam didn't wait on them to salute properly, just nodded politely and offered an appropriately professional 'carry on'. 

Sam wondered if he should have stayed back to at least check if Denny or Erica knew what had been told to the rest of the ship. He had not made any formal announcement about his return, and to his knowledge neither had Peter. Sam certainly hadn't recorded any messages with him.

_ it has been six weeks since your return | i imagine even security as tight as here isn't immune to rumor mills | you humans are some of the worst gossips i've ever observed | and the return of a leader or whatever we are now is definitely something that would spread like star fire _

Sam thought back at Worldmind,  _ or Peter sent out a bulletin or notice or something to the personnel on the levels and areas he thought I'd be most likely to visit. _

_ well, perhaps so, peter seems much more responsible and thoughtful of these things now _

Sam didn't bother with a mental response. 

For all Sam wanted to tear apart every corridor and area he came across, he didn't. Yes, he probably could have, likely no one would even protest. But he knew it'd make things run poorly. Having random and unannounced areas of the craft out of commission for no explained reason was bad for efficiency. It would likely be bad for morale to boot. The maintenance and engineering crews would likely assume it was a surprise inspection, and the lack of official documentation would increase stress for no gain. Still, Sam examined what he could as he explored.

He was beginning to suspect that he'd been the engineer that had designed this craft. Or at least had significant input. Everything he'd seen in his quarters, and everything he could observe out in the 'public' areas of the ship pointed to that conclusion. He couldn't remember any of this. Worldmind had nothing to add. But Sam trusted it enough that if there was anything concerning happening that it would bring it to his attention. Still. He knew that he must have been involved in some way, there were so many safety items here that other species neglected to add or had completely inadequate designs. Safeties that Sam knew he'd wished for more than once. And in his own quarters he'd seen each critical system had at least six different redundancies.

Then Sam discovered something he hadn't ever considered putting in a spacecraft. Even one as big as Earth's moon. But it was also just as clearly here entirely for him. Or, well, it was a public recreation area actually. But it took up at least a third of the space available on the four floors that it was on. And on a ship the size of a moon that was a lot of space. It was a recreation of an Earth desert. 

Intrigued, Sam floated inside. There were three doors, which functioned something like airlocks. To keep wildlife in the signage said, which meant that there were animals kept here too. In the entryway there were terminals with maps and use logs. On the reservations and use logs there were crew listed as using some of the rec areas. Specifically the advanced climbing range, the campgrounds, and the hiking trails. Worldmind patched into the system effortlessly, like it was Nova Empire tech designed exactly for it.

_ well nova empire or not, you did design this interface | it's got your digital fingerprints all over it _

Sam refused to acknowledge Worldmind's teasing. But he could pull up as much detail on these crew members as he cared for. Including their exact locations. He stopped hovering and dismissed most of his HUD's automatic popups and data displays; keeping up only a map of the desert area with the locations of the crew on hand.

_ Christ, it smells just like Arizona,  _ Sam thought. A pang of homesickness struck sharply. Sam stood a few moments just breathing it in.

Then he moved out, exploring on foot. He ignored warning signs of steep, sudden drops and dangerous footing. It didn't really matter to him. He could fly.  _ Was this designed this way? Is this used as some kind of advanced training for special ops or something?  _ Sam wondered. Worldmind didn't immediately respond. Sam spied a little lizard and tried to catch it. He missed and gave chase; managed to get himself wedged in a crevice trying to catch it without damaging its tail. He laughed as he squirmed back out. He'd failed but it was almost like the lizards back in Arizona. He'd wanted a better look to see if it had been gene-engineered or natural or just completely alien. It didn't matter that Worldmind was offering him as much data as he cared for on it. It'd been fun.

_ perhaps this was designed entirely for you | you are enjoying yourself immensely, after all | and with how much time has passed even you are missing your birthplace _

Sam crouched and leaned his back against a sandstone outcropping. The ceiling was so high that there were actually birds circling something. Real birds and not holograms or bots. Then he frowned.  _ Those are buzzards, vultures. What's over there Worldmind? _

_ they are circling the group climbing the advanced course | though there seems to be no reason for this as far as i can tell from here _

_ I don't like it,  _ Sam decided. Still, there was no immediate danger. He casually made his way over on foot. This time though not letting himself get sidetracked with catching the wildlife. He also reviewed the data on the birds and found that they were some spliced mix of various alien species with as much north american black vulture DNA as available. All of the life here was something like this. Apparently, Earth had been left behind so quickly not even a full complement of genetic samples made it out. Though there were plenty of native cactus and succulents.  _ Typical. The things I loved the most are gone and all I've got left are the stupid cactuses. Fuck you too, Arizona. _

Sam came upon the steep cliff from below. There were six crew in civvies here. All were already making the descent, four were most of the way down. There were two still with over halfway to go. The longer Sam watched the less he liked this. They were reckless, especially for presumably unaltered humans. The two slower ones were free climbing. Still, Sam had learned patience, he could wait. He leaned back against a cactus twice his height and took petty pleasure in burning away it's spines with Nova force. The Not-Buzzards circling overhead were being ignored by the group here. From Worldmind's data Sam suspected that these particular animals had some sort of prescience similar to Peter's spider sense. Something was going to happen. Sam was sure of it.

The four properly rigged out crew had finished their climb. They were waiting below and having a break when something did, indeed, happen. The climber on the high ground lost their hand hold and didn't recover, they knocked their companion off the face as well. Sam was off like a rocket. Though he doubted anyone still called him that nowadays. Sam caught them with smooth practiced almost muscle memory motions. They clung to him just as anyone else being rescued did. Their companions on the rock below gaped up at them in stunned silence. Sam landed and let the two of them go, their shocky thanks stuttered to a halt as they seemed to finally realize who, exactly, had saved them. 

_medics_ _are en route ETA three minutes_

Sam had yet to let an awkward silence stop him and figured now was a stupid time to start.

"Don't climb without gear. Next time you probably won't be so lucky. In fact, there's not a next time for you two until you complete safety training," Sam said. He realized partway through his usual spiel that he very likely could actually give orders to these humans and expect them to be obeyed. It was a strange but not unwelcome experience. There was still over two minutes left before the medics arrived. Great. "The medics are on their way to treat you for shock. All of you."

They all responded with shaky sounding affirmatives. They looked too stunned to salute, lucky for them Sam didn't care. They kept staring at him like they were looking at a ghost. Sam began to wonder if Worldmind's assessment of gossip mills spreading his presence was accurate. But maybe Peter simply hadn't thought that Sam would use the desert rec area. At least with crew here. Sam had been keeping mostly to himself and his quarters after all. There was still time to go until the medics arrived. 

"C'mon, let's get these packs off of you. I don't need the medics chewing me out," Sam said, holding in his sigh. He helped the two free climbers out of their gear. They were clearly still numb from shock, letting Sam guide them with nothing more than silent staring.

"... Why would the medics yell at  **you** ?" one of the four crew sitting on their packs said. Though it seemed like they might not have realized they said it out loud.

"Why wouldn't they?" Sam said, doing his best to sound as amused as he was instead of sarcastic. Six pairs of eyes stared at him now with disbelief. It must be the first time any of them had needed such urgent care. Sam had plenty of experience with medical professionals in even worse conditions than this and knew quite well that they didn't care about anything other than their charges and the wellbeing thereof.

This kept them stymied until the medical team arrived. Sam stayed out of their way and answered any questions that they had for him. Which were few and only about the time between the summons and their arrival.

There were six of the same bots that had scanned Sam when he had first arrived, and one human medic. Each bot scanned their patient. Sam didn't really want to stay any further. He reminded the two daredevils to take their remedial safety training and left them. 

But he didn't leave the desert. He explored until he found a 'sun' warmed outcropping on the top of a low cliff. Sam fondly remembered Carrie's teasing over how cold he always was. She had called him her little lizard when he was being especially pesky. The pain of missing his late wife was a dull, throbbing ache in his chest. Sam settled onto the sunbaked sandstone on his back, hands under his still helmeted head. He watched the holo-clouds drift across the artificial sky in this Arizona desert remade and remembered their short time together.

He was still lost in his memories when he was interrupted. He hadn't been paying much attention to his Heads Up Display and realized now that the group out hiking had found him. He tilted his head back to look at them. They were in the middle of a water break, Sam hoped they didn't choke themselves.

"Sup?" Sam said. One of the hikers did, indeed, choke. Or rather spat out their mouthful of water. They were clearly fine, just startled. Sam snarked on near reflex, "strong stuff, huh?"

"Lord Nova Prime?!" another hiker blurted out. The third hiker stood frozen mid drink, water running down their front.

"The one and only," Sam responded. Carefully he put a mental pin in his impending freak out over this sudden enlightenment.

"How, how dare you! Impersonating a member of the triumvirate! Have you no shame?!"

"I mean, no, but—"

"Juan, shut. Up. You can't just go off on Lord Nova Prime!" 

"Gustav! How can you possibly-" Sam nodded along with this Juan's impassioned spiel. It was hilarious and no little bit touching that they were so offended on his behalf. "-be fooled by this third rate-" Sam floated over to the still stunned and not-yet-introduced third hiker. "-costume?! Lord Nova…" Sam capped their now empty water bottle and stowed it on a pocket of their pack. "Lord Nova…" Juan said, sounding rather faint. That was both hilarious and not good. Sam carefully used his Nova force to dry this hiker off. Juan sat down, or maybe fell down onto their butt.

"There you go, Private First Class Patil," Sam said with a smile. It was totally cheating to use Worldmind to tell him their info but also he didn't care.

Sam gave Private Gustav Boltsman a cheeky two finger salute and turned to Corporal Juan Martinez. He was having a very worrying breakdown now. Well, best to settle him now before he passed out or something.

"Corporal Juan Martinez," Sam said, drawing out his name and title. He grinned at the corporal and added, "I like you."

Juan gaped at him like a fish out of water. It was hilarious, Sam didn't bother keeping his grin from growing. He didn't laugh at the poor man though. Bad enough he was freaking out over having yelled at a superior officer, hell, at Nova  _ flarking _ Prime even.  _ Freaking out time is later _ , Sam reminded himself. Having someone so powerful laugh in his face would be devastating.

"Lord Nova Prime, Sir?" Private Boltsman asked, sounding shaky themself. Sam turned his head a bit in order to make eye contact. Then realized that the private was waiting on his verbal acknowledgement.

"At ease, we're off the clock now. Did you have a question, Private?" Sam said. He waited patiently for any of them to speak up. This was definitely a shocking situation for them to be in. So as eager as he was to scuttle away and maybe go talk to Peter, he remained calm and relaxed.

"Yes Sir. You're really not mad at Juan? I mean, Corporal Martinez? Sir?" Pvt. Boltsman asked. Oh that was adorable. And also likely meant that the corporal was a solid leader and good person to inspire such devotion.

"Really, really, Private. It's actually really sweet of him to be so upset on my behalf. It would be nice if he'd calm down though," Sam said.

"Lord Nova Prime likes me," Corporal Martinez said, dazed.

"As long as it doesn't make you pass out. I really don't need to get the medics mad at me," Sam responded. He needed to leave. He hadn't checked with Peter about official statements. Which was really stupid. That should have been the first thing he did before leaving the marked floors for the public areas.

"Thank you Lord Nova Prime," Corporal Martinez said, looking up at Sam with worship shining in his eyes.

"Any time," Sam responded. He tossed them all a casual, two fingered salute before skedaddling out of there. His brain wasn't exploding or whatever awful thing happened to amnesiacs given too much info. But his head sure was spinning.

_ They called me Nova Prime _

_ yes, they did _

_ I'm Nova Prime! Me! This is  _ **_my_ ** _ New Nova Empire!  _ Sam thought to his Worldmind in panic.

_ so it seems, Sam | i am sorry that i am not the true helmet for nova prime _

_ I can't remember founding an entire galactic empire and that's what you're worried about?! _

_ you are missing those memories, yes | and yes, if i were the proper Nova Prime helmet then your missing memories would not matter for i would hold them _

_ I can't fucking believe this! I can't-! _

_ please return to your quarters | you are in distress and as Nova Prime you cannot openly display distress | it is very bad for morale _

_ Shit, yeah, you're right,  _ Sam thought. He made sure his expression was neutral and made his deliberately leisurely way back to his quarters. 

Once there, he sought out his ladies. They were often with his other servants. He didn't especially want to break down in front of the others, but he also didn't have the wherewithal to shoo them away.

They greeted him with smiles and murmured welcomes.

"Erica…" Sam began. Then stopped. His servants looked interested, Erica puzzled.

"Yes my Lord?" Erica asked him.

"I'm Nova Prime," Sam said. He didn't quite make it a question. He wasn't sure that was a good thing. Erica smiled brightly. Denny smiled but he could see her concern. Sam said, "I am, then?"

"Yes my Lord Nova Prime," all of his servants chorused.

" _ Flark _ ," Sam sat down in the air, hovering.

A chorus of concern met his reaction. Sam pressed his hands to the side of his helmet and took a steadying breath.

"I'm sorry. I need- I'm just.  _ Flark  _ I'm god damned Nova Prime and I'm just sitting here fucking around!" Sam said, trying to convey something comprehensible to his servants. "Fuck.  _ Flark _ . No wonder you all wanted this position. Nova Prime's own personal servants. God. Why can't I  **remember?!"**

Erica and Denny were directing his other servants while Sam let himself freak out. It was, in a way, nice being able to actually freak out and not have to worry about keeping up appearances. Denny guided him over to a little pillow nest that Erica had put together as he'd lost it. He floated easily along with her.

He was aware of Li Chen and Oona leaving. Natyia and Erica and Denny pulled him down into the pillow nest and rested near to him. It wasn't smothering and their steady presence was good. Sam ranted half aloud and half internally to Worldmind. He was unaware just how disjointed and lost he sounded. He would respond verbally to something Worldmind had said then go silent. He kept his hands pressing against the sides of his helmet the entire time.

"My Lord," Erica began. Sam only dimly was aware of her

"Sam," Denny said, uncharacteristically interrupting her. And at her use of his name with no titles. Sam looked to her. "Sam. Tell me five things you see."

"You," Sam began, blinking in confusion.

_ i believe our conversation is both unsettling and concerning to your servants _

_ I sound completely bat shit crazy you mean,  _ Sam thought back. No doubt Worldmind was right.

"Sam. Sam Alexander, look at me," Denny said. Right. Sam looked at her.

"Yes. Five things I see. You. Erica. Natyia. Oona is back and so is Li Chen," Sam said, doing his best to focus again on the here and now. He couldn't afford to get lost in a panic. Not now.

"Good. Very good. Okay, now four things you feel, Sam," Denny said. Sam moved his hands away from his helmet.

"My helmet, my Nova force," Sam began, he realized he was still hovering and stopped. He settled into the pillows. "The pillows…" Sam shifted into a proper sitting position and inhaled a steady breath, "my lungs."

"Good. That's good. Now Sam, three things you hear," Denny instructed.

"The ship," Sam replied immediately. He focused, listening. "our breathing. The ambient music."

"Now two things you smell," Denny said. She was really kind of amazing.

"Tea, chamomile and ginseng. And… are those those fancy flower cakes?" Sam looked over at the tray that Li Chen and Oona had brought and was absolutely delighted to find that his nose had not been wrong. There were, indeed, an assortment of petite tea cakes with edible flowers as decorations.

"One thing you taste," Denny said, she sounded relieved. 

"Fancy cakes," Sam declared, before taking one and eating it.

"Very good," Denny said, relaxing. Sam was tempted to eat all of the little sweets but he didn't need Worldmind's disapproval to restrain himself. He was a man, not a starving wolf. He reached for the tea and Natyia poured it for him.

"Thanks," he said, taking the cup and bringing it to his face. Instead of drinking it he inhaled the aroma. He sighed and settled himself into a lotus position, returning to his hover. After a few more slow, deep breaths and a few sips of tea, Sam opened his eyes and looked back to Denny. "Thank you. Really Denny. And, all of you. Thank you."

They tried to play off his gratitude, like what they were doing was just to be expected. But Sam  **hadn't** expected such compassion. It was, to him, beyond the scope of their position. Except, he supposed, for Denny and Erica.

He couldn't get them to go into much detail of anything they knew of Sam, or rather of Nova Prime, from Before. Denny vetoed that as being too much after such a shock. Sam complained but agreed. Instead, he talked to them about their lives and tried to learn both about these people in his care that cared for him and through them his empire he desperately wanted to return to.

He also learned, incidentally, that the servant that he'd only seen the once had known him before. He was dying to know more about the whole thing but he also wasn't sure it was something he should gossip about. In the end, his curiosity won out.

"So what was up with that? I mean, if they thought they were making something I wanted, why, uh, was it so serious?" Sam asked. He huffed in annoyance at the expressions on his servants faces. They were fond, affectionate. This man that they dedicated themselves to, long before being his honored servants, was kind and curious and nothing like they'd imagined him to be at all. And he didn't know the most obvious of things. 

"Mainly because she knew you had amnesia and was not to do anything to force you to remember," Erica explained.

"Oh, huh," Sam said, mulling it over. She'd put his health in jeopardy over a stupid drink. Sam blanched and rushed to ask, "She's okay though, right? Like, you just fired her? She's not-"

"She's alive my Lord. But what she did was serious," Erica said.

"But-" Sam began.

"Sam, enough," Denny commanded. Sam stopped talking and looked at her with wide eyes. "It's more than just a harmless mix up. She knew what she was doing and thought she could 'fix' you. Her selfishness could have cost the empire an incalculable loss."

Sam blinked and made a quiet 'oh' of recognition. Worldmind shared it's agreement with Denny's assessment. Sam relented, shoulders drooping. 

Natyia reached over to take his tea cup and offered him some small reassurance, "She's not to be executed. Lords Parker and Watson were generous and instead ordered her to serve in a penal colony my Lord."

Sam thanked her and drank his tea in silence. The memory of Peter's cold, merciless expression as he'd examined the medical scan showing the healed physical trauma Sam had suffered flashed into his mind. His soul chilled and he wondered if the sentence was really better than a swift death.  _ Worldmind…?  _ Sam thought. He didn't know what exactly to ask. He didn't even know if he wanted to know… No. No he didn't really want to know but he didn't get that luxury. Not as Nova Prime.

_ i cannot answer the deeper questions you ask | however i can inform you that your body servant speaks the truth | it is my understanding that living in any condition is better than dying _

Sam did shiver then, still remembering Peter's cold promise to 'take care of it'. What had Peter meant? Had he sent a force behind the Guardians of the Galaxy to mop up what was left? This man that Sam was learning to love again was not the man in Sam's memories. He was older, as Sam was, and was much more brutal. Had Sam grown just as casually brutal? That might explain why Erica and Denny had been so frightened of him when they'd first met.

"It's just… a hell of a lot to wrap my mind around. Being Nova Prime," Sam explained.

There were noises of sympathy from them all. Sam sat in the air a little while longer. He wasn't really feeling up to fooling around, but definitely wanted attention.

He took off his helmet and snuggled into the pillows.

"That was exhausting. I'm beat. I need cuddles," Sam announced. 

He fell asleep in a pile of pillows and people. He even managed to sleep there the night through completely nightmare free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i be spacing these chapters out to like one a week? yes. am i doing that? no.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: nongraphic sex scenes
> 
> Warnings: alcohol; past alcohol abuse/alcoholism mentioned

Sam's expedition into the desert biome made him crave more knowledge about everything that had been going on since he could last remember. He still had medical restrictions on his own files, but at least now he had access to what had been going on since he went missing. It wasn't any less confusing or enlightening but at least it was something to do.

He poured over what he could access, trying to learn about his people and his empire. He realized very quickly that the crewperson that had mentioned the triumvirate wasn't using an outdated xandarian swear but was referring to the government. He was Nova Prime, and Peter and Mary Jane were his fellow rulers. He didn't know why their  _ das't _ titles were redacted but for now it didn't matter.

His New Nova Empire spanned multiple star systems. When compared to the old empire it was modest yet. But considering the very short time it had been around it was astounding. Sam lost himself in this data, for hours at a time. If it wasn't for his servants he likely would have forgotten to take care of himself. As it was they reminded him and made sure he kept himself up.

He was strong enough now that he was almost back to his full exercise routine. It pleased him immensely. Especially considering how Peter kept pushing Sam to his literal limits at his brunch orgies.  _ I still can't believe it. Peter Parker, insatiable horn dog,  _ Sam mused. There was nothing that Sam had access to that explained what had happened to change Peter so drastically from the man he could remember.  Sam was distracted at brunch, talking with Peter about the empire. He managed to get even more information out of him than he'd hoped for, too. In his distraction he grabbed the nearest drink. He took an enormous gulp. It was  _ das't _ near half tequila.

"What the _flark_ is with all of this blazing booze?!" Sam snarled. He threw the drink away from the table for good measure.

"But, you love Sunsets," Peter stared at Sam with blank confusion.

Sam stared back, feeling sick.  _ God, no wonder I slept around if I was slamming back drinks all  _ das't _ day and half the  _ flarking _ night, what the fuck was I thinking? Christ. _

"I'm sober," Sam finally said. "Stop offering me booze. Order all of these servants to stop making me boozy drinks. I don't want apologies, I don't want anything except to stop being tempted to fall off the wagon."

"Yeah. Yeah Love, of course," Peter said, confused but accepting. The remaining drinks were whisked away and replaced.

The relief Sam felt at no longer having his hard fought sobriety pressured away was nearly tangible. Peter reached over and gave his knee a reassuring sort of squeeze. Sam took in a deep breath, held it and blew it out.

"Thanks," Sam said, covering Peter's hand with his own. Peter blushed and looked down. It was unbearably adorable. Sam couldn't resist bringing Peter's hand up to his lips for a kiss. Peter very gratifyingly blushed even further, the tips of his ears turning red.

Their audience were being suspiciously silent and still. Sam tried to put them out of mind as he pulled Peter over to him. Peter followed, settling in Sam's lap. He was looking at him with wide eyes. Sam turned his hand over and kissed at Peter's pulse hammering away in his wrist.

"How can you possibly be this cute?" Sam said, voice low and husky. He pressed another sweet kiss to Peter's palm.

"I am not cute!" Peter protested. Voice cracking and making him blush even harder. He went on, either unaware or stubbornly pretending that this did not make him even cuter, "I am handsome. I am virile. I am strong and gorgeous and sexy and even pretty! But I'm absolutely not adorable or cute!"

Sam smiled up at him. Peter, very cutely, pouted down at Sam.

"Yeah, you're definitely all of that," Sam agreed, and thought  _ can't believe you're such a doofus you're using virile instead of horny on main _ He added, playfully teasing, "But I have no idea why you think you're not cute or adorable when you're absolutely both of those things."

Peter blustered and protested and crossed his arms over his chest, face turned away from Sam with his nose pointed up in the air. Sam's attention was drawn away from his lover's absolute adorableness by no few of his attendants trying to hide their giggles. Sam's smile grew.

"Maybe you don't believe me because I don't have enough… data… to back up my claims," Sam said, pretending to speculate out loud just to watch Peter squirm. Sam nodded slowly, pretending to just now figure something out. "Yeah, that's it, you're like, the most mega nerd to ever live. I get it, it's cool, we'll just ask a totally uninterested unbiased observer."

Peter stared at him, it was not exactly the reaction he'd been going for but the way he was looking at him made Sam's heart soar and his stomach swoop. It felt like Peter was finally looking at him and seeing him. Like he'd finally realized Sam may never be the man that Peter remembered and it was okay. Sam abandoned the game he'd been playing to pull Peter into a kiss. He poured himself into the kiss as if he could tell Peter with his body alone  _ this is who I am and who I am loves you so  _ flarking _ much you  _ das't _ impossible nerd, stop running away _ and, well Sam had a lot of words and thoughts and feelings that he wasn't exactly the best at verbalizing. So he kissed Peter like he was someone precious, someone to be loved and cherished and valued. Sam kissed Peter like he was this and more because it was true. Peter swallowed his kisses and sweet attention like a black hole pulling in light. With the relentless hunger and insatiable need of a spider waking in spring from an empty, cold winter of torpor.

Sam gave him his love, his affection, his attention until his own body betrayed him and left him exhausted. Peter took it all. When Sam's body was spent he laid next to Peter in his bed. Peter's eyes were wide and full of something Sam was too fatigued to put a name to. He clung to wakefulness as long as he could, unwilling to feel the hope and the ache that came in the morning; from the sleepy expectation of reaching out to find Peter only to feel the sharp ache of loss waking up alone.

"Please, Peter, can't we share a bed?" Sam asked. It was unbearable, loving him so much and seeing him so little. Waking up in the arms of his concubines when in Peter's bed, or in the arms of his own servants in his own bed was a pale and weak substitute for waking up with Peter.

Sam fell asleep before he heard Peter's response, resigned to waking up without the only man he actually wanted to wake up with.

* * *

Sam had, indeed, woken up without Peter. And that day there was no brunch. Nor the next. Even worse Peter didn't so much as message him. Sam was hurt and aching and even his own dear ladies couldn't help him now. They were lovely and kind and very, very fun but they weren't who he was in love with.

Peter loved him. Sam knew this more than he knew himself. Sam couldn't understand why Peter seemed almost frightened of sharing a bed with him but was completely fine sharing each other with their concubines and servants. What had happened to frighten Peter so? How could Sam fix this between them when he didn't even know what was wrong?

Sam was miserable he couldn’t stand this. What’s more, he didn’t  **deserve** this. Peter needed to stop running away from him. Especially now! The third day after Sam had poured his very soul out of himself and into Peter, he'd had enough.

"Erica. Peter is joining us for afternoon tea. Make it happen," Sam told her as soon as he'd woken up.

"Yes my Lord," Erica said. Sam got the feeling that she was also done with Peter's nonsense. He hoped it meant Peter would actually show up. But he didn't spend his morning moping. Not today. Today he studied general crew assignment history and tried to get a feel for the pulse of his new again home.

Once he felt confident that he knew the ebb and flow of crewmates and shifts, he moved on to his own assigned crew. There were servants here that Sam had never seen in person, a personal pilot, personal chef,  _ and here I was just assuming Webs had finally invented an actual food synthesizer instead of a food goo dispenser.  _ And the various and sundry people it took to keep up care of things Sam hadn't even known he'd had and had no idea what to do with now that he did.  _ What the hell even is a dragoncycle, whatever, not what I need now. That's for future Sam to deal with.  _

He was mildly surprised to see quite a few pending transfers that were waiting for his approval. Sam went over their applications with the professionalism drilled into him by the then still standing Nova Empire of his youth and young adult years. Everything was going very smoothly right up until Sam started reading the tab that held Peter's own notes onto why he'd picked out this particular person from the (apparently thousands?!) of applicants. The handwritten notes in Peter's familiar spidery scrawl weren't the least bit professional. Sam knew he must look the fool as he stared at his  _ das't _ 'pad like it'd grown three heads and started dancing the carlton. Some of his current servants noticed, and the timbre of their pleasant background chatter changed into speculation as to what their Lord was looking at.

Sam stared at the next two tabs of videos and images on this first application. He was  **acutely** aware that no matter what he was imagining in order to prepare himself, he was not nearly depraved enough to succeed. He locked the screen and sat the pad on his lap. As much as his first instinct was to go to Worldmind for this, he knew it'd be less than useless. For all of its help and intelligence and ability to sift, correlate and otherwise interpret incalculably vast swaths of data it really did not grasp the finer, more complicated aspects of sentient life. Specifically, if something was  **not** illegal in the Nova Empire then its advice was always something along the lines of 'is anyone that you care about emotionally harmed by this?' and well, any other number of tactics that boiled down to 'if it isn't illegal and doesn't harm yourself or others then why are you even asking for my advice, Sam'

_ Right. Great. Good to know the last piece of the Nova Empire is such a bastion of morality. Ugh. _

And even though Worldmind wasn't linked with him at the moment he could practically feel it's annoyance at being asked to interpret its current Nova's latest morality crisis.

Sam leaned back and stared at the ceiling of whatever stupid room he was loitering about in today.  _ Is it really loitering if the property belongs to me? _ The answer was obviously no but he didn't care. It  **felt** like he was loitering. Maybe even like he was playing hooky from school. He needed more  **something** in his life than what he had now. But he was pretty sure even more beautiful people to look at and kiss and be coddled by was the opposite of it. But also he knew that if he just ignored this then Peter would decide for him.

_ I'm done with being powerless. _

Sam slipped the 'pad into his sleeve pocket and stood in one fluid motion. His servants looked to him with curiosity and anticipation. He inclined his head to them and they perked up. He didn’t want to have this conversation with his newer servants.

"Erica, Denny, I need to speak with you privately. Li Chen, Natyia, Oona, please keep yourselves comfortable and entertained as you like while we're indisposed. Thank you," Sam declared. He was unaware that it was the first genuinely confident and sure order that he'd ever given to any of them. As such, he was pleasantly surprised at their obedience.  _ No begging or pouting?  _ Sam thought, but he didn't show anything other than decisive surety. He was extremely suspicious as he led the way to his… it was really too big to be an office and too luxurious to be a war room or even ready room. But still. It was what it was. He went to the holo table set up in the center of the room and accessed the personnel files. Erica and Denny were perfectly silent and attentive to him, staying just one step behind and to either side of him. When he looked over to them, intending to immediately launch into his current quandary, he was caught by surprise by the nearly worshipful and overwhelmingly thirsty looks they were giving him.  _ They've never looked at me like  _ **_this_ ** _ before. _

Sam looked back at the data floating above the table and reordered his thoughts. He rubbed at his chin and went to view the 'current postings' tab.

Erica and Denny's gazes felt like targeting lasers itching at his neck. He'd intended to delegate this to the two of them as they had seemingly taken charge of his small collection of servants. Sam was perfectly content to let them choose who they were going to be living with, for, well, Denny had once told him these postings were ideally for life. As such it just seemed fair. If Sam didn't want Peter to decide for him, and he didn't want to be tormented with excessively stupid amounts of porn involving Peter and random strangers, because he really, really did not. (Peter's orgies were only tolerable when Sam was actually there with him. The knowledge that Peter no doubt still had orgies without Sam carved slivers out of his heart every time Sam thought about it.) But if Sam didn't want Peter to decide for him then delegating to his most trusted servants was just the obvious solution. Sam had wanted privacy so that he wouldn't upset or hurt his newer servants' feelings. But now that they were here Sam wasn't entirely sure how to continue.

Sam felt like the silence was thick. Like Hell could he identify what with, though. But the longer he stood staring at the screens the heavier the silence grew. Sam's skin prickled. Denny and Erica remained uncharacteristically silent and still. Sam located Erica's file and pulled it up.

He definitely noticed his ladies' quickening breaths.  _ This is. So weird.  _ But also, Worldmind's imagined advice of 'if it's not illegal and no one is harmed' was at the front of his mind.  _ Well, if my lover is the acting head of the New Nova Empire. And my lover has orgies on the regular. With and without me… _

Sam scrolled slowly through Erica's file. He really should have done this sooner. Like a day or two after getting his access restored at the latest. Peter's notes were copious and detailed and he doodled little Nova stars around what he thought Sam would find most exciting. Some of it was … _ yikes _ , but much of it was,  _ fuck that's hot. _

When he reached the end of Peter's notes he was half hard and thought that he could perhaps let himself blow off some steam with Erica and Denny. He still had qualms about using his other servants in this way.  _ So I won't. I'm the one in charge here. And even if I wasn't I'm  _ **_always_ ** _ in charge of my body. _

Sam felt a sort of peace settle over him at the thought. He ignored the tabs with pics and vids and moved on to Denny's file. Sam didn't know why he was surprised that on top of being a doctor in neurology she was also decorated with various service awards and medals for care above and beyond the call of reasonable execution of duty. Erica was also incredibly smart. Apparently had a masters degree in chemistry and years of experience,  _ no wonder she was Pete's fave,  _ Sam thought, his heart both fond and aching.

_ This really is some kind of reward. Probably, I guess, for all of them. Except maybe Erica, Peter adored her and here I am ignoring her until she literally pounces on me to get my attention. _

Sam knew he didn't have the superhuman stamina of his dear Love but he could at least make an effort to satisfy her.  _ She'd been his. His favorite.  _ It hurt his heart to think about Peter having favorites.  _ I wasn't here.  _ Sam reminded himself.  _ I wasn't here and as soon as I returned he gave her to me without a thought.  _ Sam smiled softly at the thought, Peter was trying so hard to help him fit back into his old life. And it wasn't like Peter was  **neglecting** him. Not really. Peter had to manage an entire civilization. Luxurious surroundings and beautiful people must be his way of making up for how little they saw each other.  _ We'd see each other more if we actually shared a bed.  _ But that was a thought for later.

_ Maybe I  _ **_should_ ** _ have watched some of those vids. I still have no idea what I'm doing. _ But Sam figured that was okay. Denny and Erica, Erica and Denny, had been here for him for all he could remember  _ literally, hah.  _ And of course Peter had been here for Sam since  **before** Sam could remember.

It wasn't even close to being in the same area code as Peter's depraved and debauched brunch-orgies. But it was satisfying. And fun. And extremely, extremely gratifying. He used Peter's gifted knowledge of these women as precisely as he used his Nova force. And he thought maybe he was closer to understanding his lover, too. Bringing his girls to orgasm again and again was a different kind of potent, heady rush than accepting Peter's all consuming attention giving Sam the same.

When he was finished with them his balls were pleasantly empty and his body comfortably relaxed. They were beautiful trembling piles of thoroughly fucked women and Sam felt more powerful in this moment than when he literally held the power of the stars in his heart. He remembered the sweet words and kindness these very women had given him when he'd been so lost and broken. Everything had been terrible and terrifying then. They had always sounded so genuine that Sam had never had any trouble believing them. And they accepted him wholly, mixed up traumatized wreck that he'd been. Still was. Even Peter hadn't  **really** accepted those pieces of him. Sam knew he was by no means 'cured' but the thought of facing his life with Erica and Denny always ready to accept him as himself gave him strength and confidence,  _ It doesn't matter if I'm ever the man I was.  _ Sam decided.  _ I'm me and that's enough. _

_ I'm enough. _

  
Despite how freeing and fulfilling all of these thoughts and realizations were,  _ I'm not enough to carry both of my girls at the same time,  _ Sam smiled at them, they deserved to be the ones getting pampered for a change. He summoned his other three servants. Between them they'd be able to manage.

* * *

By afternoon tea Sam and his ladies were cleaned up and presentable. Sam was wearing the closest thing to a uniform his servants could find on short notice. It still felt weird and he still missed his pants and shirts but he pushed it aside.

Peter was late. Sam wasn't yet upset. Peter was often late.

When Peter did show up the tea was cold. Sam wished he was in his helmet so he could theatrically heat up the pot. As it was, Sam stood up and casually asked for a fresh pot of tea. Peter looked anxious. Sam was hurt and furious.

"Peter. We're gonna talk about sharing a bed and you aren't going to run away from me this time," Sam informed him.

"Oh? Um, well-" Peter began. He was clearly trying to avoid this conversation. It infuriated and hurt Sam even further.

"I gave you everything I am and you ignore me completely for three days. Do you have any idea what that feels like," Sam bit out.

Peter wilted. It was pathetic and wretched and Sam was suddenly relieved that this was happening in his quarters instead of Peter's. With Erica and Denny by his side Sam was able to hold onto his resolve to get Peter to have a  _ das't _ conversation about this like an adult. He couldn't even deal with imagining the accusing stares of Peter's concubines. 

"I- I'm sorry, Sam," Peter didn't immediately say anything else, just sniffled and looked wretched. Sam waited. The apology was nice, but he needed Peter to actually conversate instead of talk about nothing. It was hard, though. As hurt and upset as Sam was, he still loved Peter so deeply that he hated seeing him in pain.  _ I'm in pain, too.  _ He reminded himself,  _ I deserve to be respected just as much as Pete. _

"That's a start," Sam said after a bit.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm. I love you. So much. I'm sorry, so sorry Sam. I never meant-"

Sam made a rude and incredulous noise before interrupting with, "you never meant to hurt me? Excuse me? You  _ flarking _ ghosted me! The  _ flark _ did you think I'd feel?  _ Flarking _ happy?!"

"No. No I just. I thought. I mean, it's not like you're alone!" Peter snapped, defensive and loud.

"I'm not in love with my servants, asshole! I'm in love with you!" Sam barked back. How could one man be so incredibly smart and so mind meltingly stupid at the same time?

"Wha…?" Peter said, though it wasn't even a word. The fight left him at Peter's confusion. Sam's heart clenched and he wondered just how badly he'd ruined this amazing man by being a drunken wreck.  _ Never again. _

"I love my ladies, they've been here for me since I can remember. They're great. If they leave I'll miss them. But it won't break me. Peter. I love you. You," Sam reached out to Peter and pulled him close. He locked gazes with him and went on, "I'm in love with you. If anything were to happen to you, I'd be devastated. Seeing you, being with you, those are the best parts of my day. Please, Peter, let me wake up with you."

"Oh," Peter looked like he'd been punched in the gut at Sam's declaration. Sam's heart ached. Then slowly, Peter looked at him. Really, truly  **looked** at him. His expression softened and slowly changed into wonder, "okay Sam. We'll work something out looking term. Tonight though, did you want me in here?"

"Yeah. Yeah that'd be great," Sam said, relief and joy filling his heart. Peter rested his hand against Sam's cheek and Sam leaned into it.  Peter didn't say anything yet, just looked him over with a quiet intensity that was taking Sam's breath away. Then Peter ruined the moment by opening his mouth and talking.

"You really love me," Peter said. The depth of emotion in his voice set Sam on edge.

"Peter, you Webheaded idiot, yes. Yes I  _ flarking _ love you," Sam said, completely exasperated. But quietly earnest he added, "I'm so sorry that I ever gave you any reason to doubt it. I love you. You, you absolute disaster. You're mine. My Love, my Peter, my Idiot."

Peter's eyes grew wet with unshed tears and he laughed softly. He said fondly, "You're such an absolute asshole. I can't believe how much I love you."

"Yeah, well, I'm your asshole," Sam agreed easily.

They kissed and Sam melted. Peter hadn't run away this time. He'd stayed. He'd stayed and he'd listened. He was going to finally be sleeping with Sam like he should have been from the beginning. Everything was nearly perfect.


End file.
